Textual Metaphors: The Water Metaphor (example: “Young Royals”)

If you haven’t read my article about the rowing competition (‘Contextual Metaphors’) yet, I recommend reading that one first and returning to this one afterwards because that’s the order in which these two posts should be read. The article below is PART 2 of a two-parter.

I think the first time I noticed there was something interesting going on with the water on the show ‘Young Royals’ was when I first watched the rowing scene in episode two of season one:

Simon is all alone in his boat on the lake, and Wilhelm (who’s standing on the dock) is giving him sage advice on how to row until August inevitably shows up and ruins the mood for everyone.

What’s interesting about that scene is the very specific advice Wilhelm gives Simon, which seems to come almost out of nowhere: There’s no scene preceding it which would address any rowing-related problems, and there’s almost no context to Wilhelm’s advice there. If you’re watching a movie or TV show and suddenly weirdly specific things are being said without an introductory scene, and it all seems to come a bit out of the blue, you should always consider at least the possibility that it might be a (textual) metaphor. (As I pointed out before, textual metaphors are more difficult to spot than visual ones, so you really have to keep your antennae up to pick up on verbal cues like that. Admittedly, the ‘water’ metaphor, that we’re going to talk about in this article, straddles the line between a textual and a visual metaphor, but it’s still not very easy to spot right away. At first it was mostly just a hunch on my part. But hunches are very important when you’re hunting for metaphors in the wild, and boy, did this one pay off.)

So, what had my metaphor-detecting senses tingle about that scene?

Wilhelm says, “Make sure your strokes are as close as possible to the surface, so you don't use too much energy.”

What seemed to make sense to me instantly was that the water here was a metaphor for feelings/a relationship: As long as everything stays superficial, Wilhelm seems to be telling Simon, we won’t have any problems. As long as we only touch the surface of the ‘water’ (read: the surface of our feelings/have a superficial relationship as friends), we won’t have to expend too much energy on this thing.

Remember that Wihelm was raised in a very conservative household and was told that he shouldn’t get too close to people in order to make sure he doesn’t get taken advantage of. So, keeping feelings and relationships superficial is his way of making sure he doesn’t get hurt. (Boy, is Wilhelm in for a big surprise there.) Subconsciously, Wilhelm is most likely already feeling how unfathomably deep the water, i.e. that lake, is (read: how deep those feelings for Simon already are at that early stage of their acquaintance), but his rational, conscious mind keeps telling him to stay as close to the surface as possible, which he relays to Simon almost like a warning: If you get in too deep, you’re going to get into troubled waters. And then we’ll have to expend a hell of a lot of energy. So don’t.

What fits this metaphorical interpretation is what comes next in that scene: Wilhelm gives Simon a defensively heterosexual bro clap on the shoulder. That’s what his upbringing and his rational mind tell him their relationship should be like at that point. Bros being bros and all that.

So, what about Simon then? Well, Simon isn’t sure how to navigate their relationship either. He’s all insecure in the boat out on the ‘water’ (read: feelings/relationship). So many feelings, so little knowledge on how to navigate that boat (or should I already say ‘ship’ here?). 

The two of them have, after all, almost kissed outside Wilhelm’s initiation party in the episode prior to this one, and they’ve almost been called out on that by the other boys during the on-the-table scene at lunch. So, both are probably a bit spooked by it all: Wilhelm (who most likely is mightily confused about what is even happening to him) tries to overcompensate by giving sage advice on how to stay (superficial) buddy-type friends. And Simon (who is openly gay and thus might understand a bit better what it is that’s beginning to happen between them) is unsure how to navigate that relationship across those deep and troubled waters. Hence Simon’s insecurity in that boat.

Actually, when you watch the scene closely, it’s precisely Simon’s insecurity in the boat that seems to prompt Wilhelm into giving him that advice: Simon already feels that there are incredible depths to those feelings beneath their superficial friendship, and because he’s gay and he’s not sure about Wilhelm, he doesn’t know how to navigate that situation. And Wilhelm subconsciously picks up on Simon’s insecurity and gives him some advice straight (!) out of the how-to-be-best-buds playbook: keep things superficial.

What’s even more interesting is the line immediately preceding the one which first had my metaphor radar go bing-bing-bing: Wilhelm says, “Don't worry about balance; it will come.”

The show is literally telling us that what Simon is doing there is a balancing act: Simon knows that he’s gay, but he has no idea what’s going on with this prince he’s just met and who’s practically a complete stranger. He is however picking up on signals from Wilhelm that are anything but straight, and he himself is feeling stuff rather strongly, as well. How to balance all that? How can he make sure he doesn’t just tip over and drown in those deep, deep feelings?

To which Wilhelm says that balance is nothing to worry about, that it’ll all work out later. Just kick the can down the road for a bit. It’ll all work out for their (superficial) friendship in the end. Well, we all know that’s absolute nonsense. There’s no balancing something like this into a nice, respectable, all heterosexual buddy-friendship (metaphorically: rowing). The metaphorical ‘water' is already far too deep.

Then August shows up and literally tells Simon that he would be more suited as a coxswain than a rower. Translation: You’re not one of us, Simon. You’re not a ‘rower’ (read: None of us guys wants to have a buddy-type friendship with you, and Wilhelm shouldn’t either. I’ll make sure of that.)

Little does August know that Simon and Wilhelm will indeed never have a metaphorical ‘rowing’ relationship (superficial friendship) but something else entirely. In other words, August is right, just not in the way he thinks.

So far, the ‘water’ metaphor checks out, right?

Now, remember what we’re told about Erik: During Parents’ Day, Felice’s parents remind Wilhelm that Erik used to row at Hillerska, as well. Translation: Erik, too, learned how to keep all of his relationships as superficial as possible. He learned how not to get too close to people (metaphorically: how not to dive too deeply into the water and keep things close to the surface).

So, if you thought the references to Erik’s troubled life came a bit out of the blue in season two, you would be wrong; the show told us pretty early on about that in season one, but it did so subtextually.

Note also how we never actually see Wilhelm and Simon sit in the same boat and row together throughout the entirety of those two seasons we were shown so far. That’s because the relationship between Wilhelm and Simon is not built on something superficial. Their boat (or should I say ‘ship’?) is not built for the surface (hold that thought). They do actually get in pretty deep pretty quickly.

Remember how Rosh called rowing ‘not a sport’, i.e. not the real thing? While a literal reading of the text here just shows us that this working-class girl and her working-class best friend Ayub don’t understand rich-people sports, a metaphorical reading subverts the first reading slightly: Rosh, who is a good and true friend to Simon, understands what’s going on far better than we all think. She seems to have instinctively picked up on the fact that rowing is metaphorically completely superficial.

Which is why the only time we actually see Wilhelm row in a boat is together with August and a couple of other guys before Parents’ Day (signifying that it is with them that he has a superficial friendship/acquaintanceship). In that scene, Simon is not in the boat with him, which metaphorically wouldn’t make any sense, after all. It’s also notably set right after Wilhelm has rejected Simon and asked him to forget about their kiss in the piano scene we’ve discussed at length. So, at this stage, Wilhelm is probably seeking out superficial friendships with other boys at his school (metaphorically: he’s rowing, i.e. barely touching the surface of the metaphorical ‘water’, i.e. his feelings).

If you think about it, everything about that rowing scene with Simon alone in the boat and Wilhelm giving him advice on how to row is already prefiguring the piano scene that will come one episode later: Wilhelm, the one with the conservative upbringing, is trying to ‘teach’ Simon something in both scenes. In the rowing scene, he’s metaphorically telling Simon how they should proceed with their friendship: keep it superficial, worry about the balance later.

When that doesn’t work (and obviously it doesn’t; they do proceed along a romantic path and eventually kiss), Wilhelm switches to lesson number two: the piano scene. This is where he now tries to admonish Simon to stick to the metaphorical ‘sheet music’ and for, Heaven’s sake, stop playing the soprano part (read: stop acting like a girl). This is where he tells Simon to remember that he’s a tenor (read: remember that he’s a boy).

The two scenes, the rowing scene and the piano scene, are twins, matching scenes that belong together and should be analyzed together because they’re both lessons. Lessons taught by Wilhelm. And they’re not happy lessons (just as those scenes aren’t happy scenes). These are very sad lessons and very sad scenes because we, the audience, know that Wilhelm is, in fact, dead wrong, and we should pity him.

He is trying to teach Simon utter nonsense. First lesson (rowing): How to be just best buds. And when that doesn’t work, second lesson (piano): How to be a proper man and forget about all that unmanly stuff that’s happened…and still remain best buds.

Wilhelm is torn between two things in those scenes: on the one hand, the lessons he himself has undoubtedly been taught at some point and has fully internalized (metaphorical ‘rowing’ on the metaphorical ‘water’ and metaphorical ‘music’ lessons with some metaphorical ‘sheet music’)…and his obvious attraction to Simon on the other hand.

So, now that we have sniffed out the ‘water’ metaphor, maybe we should try and see if we can find some confirmation for our theory: Scenes in which there are references to deep feelings between Wilhelm and Simon, should feature water. Scenes in which the absence of water is conspicuous should happen whenever there is a notable lack of feelings. Got it?

So, where do Wilhelm and Simon go after their first night together in episode five of season one when they are so happy they look like they’ve swallowed the sun? The writers could have easily just had them take a stroll around the park or into the forest. But they specifically chose to make it a walk to the lakeshore(!). Translation: That’s how deep the feelings of those two lovebirds are at that point in the story already. And those feelings are very present, they are pretty much gigantic in the shot behind them. And oh-so very deep.

(Keep that thought. We’re going to come back to their lakeside stroll at the end of this article.)

If I were a filmmaker and had secured a filming location like Kaggeholm Castle, which is situated right next to a vast lake, I would probably use that lake as a metaphor, too. I mean, the lake is right there and not exactly easy to miss. It’s deep. What else would you do with it? Of course, you’d use it as a metaphor for powerful and profound feelings.

The matching scene to the lake stroll is obviously the walk Wilhelm takes all alone in episode three of season two while listening to ‘The Lonely Ones’. Not only is he literally taking a ‘lonely’ walk there, but he is walking to the lake, examining his own unfathomably deep feelings for Simon. This is particularly heartbreaking because, at this point, he believes he has lost the metaphorical ‘competition’ to Marcus (we’ve talked about this at length). He has witnessed their kiss.

Note how beautifully the two main metaphors of the show are intertwined in that ‘Lonely Ones’ scene: the ‘music’ metaphor and the ‘water’ metaphor. Wilhelm walks to the lake with his earbuds in his ears. Since we know that, on this show, ‘music’ metaphorically represents love, we can pretty much see how much Wilhelm needs ‘music’ at that point: his ear (read: his heart) is craving it, reaching out for it (that’s why he has his earbuds in). That’s how much he misses Simon at that point. And as he does so, he reaches the lake, the metaphorical deep water (his deep, deep feelings).

And here we get an interesting shot:

I cannot stress enough how unusual this shot is. What you’d usually get with a scene like this is a shot from the opposite direction, i.e. with the fence between us, the audience, and the protagonist. This way you’d see his face behind and through the fence as if he were a caged animal.

I have to admit I was so happy that this wasn’t shot in that clichéd way because frankly, shots where a chain-link fence (or grill or mesh or railing) is between us, the viewers, and the protagonist, and we’re shown the protagonist’s tortured facial expression behind the bars as though he’s trapped are a dime a dozen. There’s just too many of them in too many films and shows, so I was really glad to see the director didn’t succumb to the cliché here and instead subverted it by only showing us Wilhelm from behind (and later in profile).

A clichéd shot through the fence would also have prevented us from grasping the actual metaphorical meaning of this shot: There is a fence between Wilhelm and the water! And he’s looking out onto the lake through that fence.

Look, the lake is still there, i.e. his feelings are as deep as ever; the relationship with Simon is as profound as it’s ever been.

But Wilhelm has no access to that relationship anymore. He can see the lake, feel that it’s there, breathe in its smell, but he can’t touch it anymore. The Simon/Marcus relationship has (ostensibly) taken Simon away from Wilhelm. That’s a powerful and poignant visual metaphor right there. 

Note how, throughout the entire show, the metaphorical subtext keeps telling us that it doesn’t really matter what Wilhelm and Simon’s official relationship status is; they might be together or broken up or something in between – ultimately none of that matters: They are in a relationship whether they want to or not. They are emotionally involved throughout the entire story. That’s why Simon feels like he’s cheating on Wilhelm when he’s with Marcus (we’ve talked about the metaphorical subtext pointing to that). That’s why the lake is always there. That relationship doesn’t just evaporate. These feelings are always present. And that’s why, despite the fact that the characters have every right to do whatever they want with whoever they want when they’re broken up, they feel excruciating pain, jealousy and heartbreak. Because emotionally that relationship has never ended, never taken a break and was never put on hold, just like the lake that’s inexhaustible and ever-present.

Note also that when Felice finally approaches Wilhelm, she walks up to him from the opposite (!) direction of the lake (translation: there are certainly no deep feelings involved there, none of the romantic sort in any case). Wilhelm is literally shown to be turning around and away (!) from the lake. He has to take his eyes off the water (read: his feelings) to look at her. The turning around is accentuated because of how slowly it’s executed by the actor, so as to make sure that we really, really get the message: Wilhelm is turning away from the ‘water’, i.e. Felice doesn’t touch his heart in the same way that Simon does.

There is a similar scene at the beginning of season two, actually: Simon and Wilhelm have their first proper (and longer) talk after the Christmas break. It’s set in the library. (By the way, if you want to read this library setting as foreshadowing the fact that it’s going to be a book that brings them closer together again towards the end of the season, be my guest. ‘Kris’ by Karin Boye plays an important role on this show, so why not foreshadow it by having them talk it out in the library. You can read it like that, but you obviously don’t have to.)

What’s more interesting for the ‘water’ metaphor is the fact that their talk happens right in front of the huge window through which we can all see the lake, those deep, deep waters (read: feelings) that are so omnipresent for these two characters. This ‘lake’ is still there after the Christmas break, that’s for sure, but they’re not standing on its shore anymore the way they did after they’d first spent the night together. They are now separated from the lake by a solid glass pane.

Once again, a brilliant visualization of the poignant scene that is playing out in front of that lake-view window: Simon telling Wilhelm that he needs space and that Wilhelm is hurting him, and Wilhelm begging him, “What can I do? Please, Simon…”

Note that when Simon, at the end of the scene, texts Ayub to ask him to play wingman on his karaoke ‘date’ with Marcus, he is visually shown to be walking away (!) from the lake-view window. This is actually the exact opposite of what happened at the beginning of that library conversation: Wilhelm and Simon had first started talking in the aisle between the bookshelves and then moved closer (!) to the window with the lake view as they started talking about their feelings, the moment they’d both moved closer to the lake-view window being the exact second when Wilhelm had touched Simon’s upper arm (the music picks up at that exact moment, too, so you really get the message). We had then got a first shot with the lake being in full view behind Simon’s face just as Simon had said the words, “I’ve been thinking about you all Christmas.” In other words, you can see how the view of the lake is used here intentionally, and walking away from it just as things turn more Marcus-y is certainly not a coincidence.

We will see that whenever Simon is in contact with Marcus, water (i.e. feelings) is notably absent. Often Simon is even shown to be turning away from the water as he’s connecting with Marcus. ‘Water’ scenes are reserved for Wilhelm exclusively.

By the way, did you notice the subtle foreshadowing of Sara and August’s love affair in season one? These two first talk to each other in a similar aisle of the library in front of that lake-view window. In their case, the love is still very far away, lurking outside behind a seemingly impenetrable glass pane, which is guarded by a very observant and protective brother, and to top it off, August is only approaching her with his drugs in mind. But the lake behind that window already seems to tell us that there will be more to that relationship than meets the eye at that point in the story.

Anyway, back to Marcus and the conspicuous lack of any ‘water’ scenes whenever his smug face shows up on screen.

An example of this is the infamous rowing competition in episode three of season two, which we have discussed at length already. As I pointed out, the competition is a metaphor for the other ‘competition’ (the one between Wilhelm and Marcus for Simon). And while the show ostensibly tells us that our team ‘loses’ the ‘competition’, and the ‘other team’ ‘wins’ (read: Wilhelm thinks he’s losing Simon because he sees him being kissed by Marcus), that is not actually true: The ‘competition’ isn’t real. It’s fake. It’s not even out on the lake (!). It’s not happening on the water (read: there are no feelings there whatsoever, Simon doesn’t feel anything for Marcus, so it can’t be a real competition to begin with). 

There can never be a real competition because Simon loves only Wilhelm, and the absence of water in those competition scenes highlights that.

And where can we see the only water in those competition scenes in the gym? Right. On that screen on the wall! The screen that’s telling us who the ‘winner’ of the ‘competition’ is is showing us completely fake, cartoon-type animated blue water and little cartoon-type animated boats on it. But that’s the thing, there is no actual water underneath the rowing machines in that gym. There is no water. There are no feelings. There is no real competition. It’s just a screen showing us (fake) ‘water’.

Are you getting the meta-level joke here? The only thing showing us those (totally fake, cartoon-type) feelings between Simon and Marcus is our TV screen. Just like it’s only a screen on the wall that’s telling us who the (ostensible) ‘winner’ of the ‘competition’ is, a screen that’s showing us the fake ‘water’ (fake feelings). None of this is real. Simon doesn’t have any feelings for Marcus, and Marcus isn’t ‘winning’ anything in those scenes. We should stop just believing in a cartoonish cardboard cut-out romance between Simon and Marcus just because our TV screen is making it seem for a moment like it is real.

The show is poking fun at itself and its audience there. And it does so brilliantly.

Another notable scene in which we see the contrast between Simon’s deep feelings for Wilhelm and Simon’s lack of any and all kinds of feelings for Marcus is the 17 km long forest run Wilhelm and Simon have to undertake (we’ve talked about that at length in the ‘competition’ post about the contextual metaphors, as well). The trail they run presumably leads around the lake because the lakeshore is where we see them start and finish. 

(Quick reminder: an actual geographical filming location doesn’t need to be identical to the fictional location it’s posing as. Otherwise every other movie set in New York would actually be set in Canada. So while it might not be possible to run from Kaggeholm Castle all around the lake; it might be perfectly possible to do so from Hillerska.)

So metaphorically, this whole excruciating almost-half-marathon that Wilhelm and Simon have to run to get back together, this metaphorical ‘journey’ (read: the entirety of season two) leads around the lake, i.e. revolves around their deep feelings for each other.

But then when they take the detour, the ‘detour’ that ends up leading to Marcus and that Simon gets so angry about, the detour Simon calls ‘cheating’ (remember?), which tells us that Simon feels like what he’s doing with Marcus is cheating on Wilhelm, that very same detour leads away (!) from the lake. There is no water anywhere to be seen when they catch sight of Marcus on his tractor. No water, no feelings. The narrative ‘detour’ the script took when it introduced the Marcus-storyline leads away from the lake because Simon doesn’t feel anything for this guy.

I don’t want to overextend the metaphor, but if you want, you can even read the movie ‘date’ at Marcus’s place in that way: Marcus specifically offers Simon a coke, fanta or water. Simon notably doesn’t choose the water here. As I said I don’t want to take things too far with this metaphor, but if you want, you can count this as another example of Simon refusing to take any kind of ‘water’ from Marcus. Because wherever Marcus is, we conspicuously don’t get any ‘water’ context at all. I mean, Marcus is offering Simon his ‘water’ (read: feelings) right there, but Simon doesn’t want to catch a ‘case of feelings’ from Marcus under any circumstances. Marcus is offering a relationship, but Simon doesn’t want it. (Also, we know Simon doesn’t drink alcohol and doesn’t do drugs himself, so choosing a coke is probably as close as the subtext can push him to taking something drug-like. Simon literally needing ‘something’ to get himself through what he clearly came there to do in the first place is a bit of my headcanon; you can obviously choose to ignore that. But the writers wrote those lines in there, so I’m choosing to believe that all of it is intentional.)

I’m not saying we should take any and all examples of water appearing on the show as evidence for our metaphor. That would be silly. Obviously on a show of the boarding school genre, you will have scenes set in a dining hall, for example, where water is served from time to time without it necessarily carrying any metaphorical meaning. There’s just no avoiding that every now and then.

But in scenes where either the dialogue or the context draws attention to the ‘water’, I would argue, we should consider at least the possibility that it’s used as a metaphor. That’s why I mentioned the scene in which Marcus specifically offers Simon water in a line of dialogue.

An example of a scene in which there’s no dialogue, but the context suggests that the water could (potentially) mean something, happens during Wilhelm’s initiation party in episode one of season one: In one brief scene, Wilhelm starts to ingest water straight from a large bottle. Now obviously, on the surface of the text (the literal level), Wilhelm is just doing so to avoid a hangover come the next morning. It’s, however, important to remember that Wilhelm isn’t a real person with real motivations; he’s a fictional character, so everything he does is something a writer, director or showrunner have come up with, and what’s interesting about that brief scene is that all of this is happening at precisely the moment Wilhelm has for the first time that night manoeuvred himself into a position on the dancefloor right next to Simon to be able to talk to him. So, the context offers us at least the possibility of reading all of this as a metaphor: Wilhelm is already (subconsciously) flirting with Simon on the dancefloor, and instead of your usual ‘Dutch courage’ scene (which we typically get in film scenes such as these), we get him chugging copious amounts of ‘water’ – so many feelings involved in their interactions even at this early stage of their acquaintance.

Another scene where the context suggests that there could be a metaphorical meaning to the water shown happens at the Valentine’s Ball in season two: The moment Marcus and Simon turn the corner and are out of sight, Wilhelm almost collapses from having had to pretend that he’s fine with the exchange of pleasantries between them and makes a beeline for the kitchen where (you’ve guessed it) he fills a glass with water straight from the tap and inhales the water in about three seconds of screentime. Again, you don’t have to read anything into this, but the writers could have had him just storm out. Instead we get another ‘water’ reference – Wilhelm is trying to cope with all of those feelings for Simon (literally swallowing his feelings, one could say).

While we’re on that scene, and just because I feel like throwing some shade at Marcus again, did you notice how subtly Wilhelm puts Marcus down in that scene where he exchanges pleasantries with him? It’s half wistful envy, half humiliation of a rival. And it’s so well written.

It’s all in the subtext, but it’s there. 

At first Wilhelm asks Marcus not to address him as ‘Crown Prince’ and allows him to call him ‘Wille’, which draws attention to two things: 1) Wilhelm doesn’t like being Crown Prince, he would like to be just Wille, but also 2) Wilhelm is the one who’s in the position to allow or refuse to be addressed in a certain way. (He’s of a higher status than Marcus. He makes the decisions here. He’s the future monarch who can graciously allow a subject to address him with more familiarity than would usually be acceptable. It’s his decision. Not Marcus’s.)

Wilhelm then draws attention to the fact that Marcus is dressed as a waiter, i.e. not one of the upper class that’s celebrating itself here by playing ancien regime for an opulent night of costumed revelry. Wilhelm specifically points out that Marcus isn’t one of them; he’s like one of the lowly staff…like a waiter. I can’t stress this enough because Wilhelm never does that kind of thing with anyone else, certainly not with Simon; he loathes the upper class’s pretensions whenever August airs them in front of him and suffers himself under the joke of the Crown Prince role that he’s been pushed into. So, this is significant. With Marcus, Wilhelm ignores his own instincts and, underneath the pleasantries exchanged there, subtly puts him in his place in the subtext.

Then Wilhelm truthfully alludes to the fact that he hates his own (upper-class) role, too. He literally says that ‘the wig hurts as hell’. But when Marcus agrees that that’s not his style (read: that he’s not upper class, but lower middle class at best), Wilhelm doubles down in a mix of self-deprecation and subtle put-down: He says, “What? Poofy trousers and a cravat, that's not your thing, is it?”

It’s both self-irony (because we’ve seen how much Wilhelm struggles with this role he has to play; putting on the traditional costume and wig literally made him cry), but a subtle humiliation of Marcus nonetheless. Wilhelm is doing both here: He half-envies Marcus for being able to be this normal guy who doesn’t have to wear the metaphorical ‘wig’ and silly ‘cravat’ and can be just an ordinary working/lower-middle class man from Bjärstad, who can be out and can have Simon in the way that Wilhelm would want to. But he also half-humiliates him as this ‘waiter’ who isn’t one of the upper class. It’s both: wistful envy (because deep down Wilhelm wants to be just normal) and outward put-down (because now that Wilhelm has put on the ‘wig’ of the traditional Crown Prince role, Marcus is beneath him, and it’s expected of a Crown Prince to mistreat people who are of a lower status).

And then, as if to subtextually draw even more attention to it, Wilhelm asks Marcus to give him a spoon. Like you would do with, you know, a waiter.

And let’s not forget the remark about the shooting range: Marcus provides a service at that range. He works there; he does not shoot there himself. It’s the upper classes that are traditionally known to take to shooting as a pastime. Marcus works there for them. So, the shade is strong here with Wilhelm’s behaviour. (Note that even Simon is picking up on this subconsciously when he clearly says that shooting is not his thing, read: Simon’s saying, “I’m not upper class, and what the hell is going on with my boy Wille here; he’s usually not like this at all.”)

I can’t stress enough how unusual this behaviour is for Wilhelm. He usually loathes to be associated with his role, and he never humiliates people who are of a lower socioeconomic status. One could of course say that jealousy is a powerful motivator and that it brings out the worst in people, but actually, I think it’s so much more than just that because Wilhelm doesn’t even want to do any of this. It’s as if Wilhelm were saying here, “Okay, you all win. You wanted to make me into a proper traditional prince, so I’m giving in. I hate it with all my heart. And actually I just want to be like this Marcus guy. But I have no choice anymore, so I’m going to be what you all want me to be. I’m going to live a perfect, conservative, heterosexual life without the love of my life even though it’s killing me on the inside. And while we’re on the subject, I’m going to behave like a total jerk as well because that’s part of the role, too. At least one of the perks of this is that I can be as mean as I want to the man who took everything from me.”

But you can see how difficult all of this is for Wilhelm, how much it affects him. Wilhelm isn’t that kind of person. And both giving up Simon and behaving like a selfish upper-class prick doesn’t come naturally to him at all; it’s almost making him break down right there and then.

And then there’s the piece of cake. Oh, that piece of cake! 

I don’t know if a similar expression exists in Swedish, but even if it’s just an English expression that’s being alluded to here, I think we can all agree that the writers of this show know English very well; their characters do too, as is obvious in line after line of dialogue, all of which is fairly realistic for a Scandinavian country. So, even if we assume that this is just an English expression, it’s a very well-known one: ‘piece of cake’ is what we call a thing that’s incredibly easy. Something that’s child’s play, something that’s as easy as pie (to use another culinary image).

So, after that conversation, Wilhelm literally eats a piece of cake.

There is a technical term for what the show is doing here: ‘ironic juxtaposition’. Wilhelm is doing an incredibly difficult thing, but the visual image tells us that it’s all a ‘piece of cake’.

Wilhelm is doing the potentially hardest thing he’s ever done in his whole life (giving up Simon), followed by the second hardest thing he’s ever done (acting like a mean jerk) and the third hardest, as well (trying to become a traditional upper-class prince). Although obviously with all of these three things, it’s hard to say where one begins and another one ends. All three things are basically just becoming blurred into this one exhausting and painful Herculean task…and he’s doing it all while literally eating a ‘piece of cake’, i.e. trying to show to the world that this is the easiest thing he’s ever done.

Keep in mind that Wilhelm is in costume here. The piece of cake is part of that costume. It’s part of a role, just like the wig and the cravat and the make-up. The piece of cake is an extension of that very same costume. In other words…it’s a lie. Nothing about this conversation is easy. None of it is a ‘piece of cake’.

But it’s part of his role now (or so he thinks) to pretend that it is. And we can see that it’s all fake the moment he’s unobserved: He flees the room and drinks some metaphorical ‘water’ in the kitchen. The ‘piece of cake’ was a lie, the ‘water’ is telling the truth.

Subtextually, this is a brilliant scene. So much is being said beneath that icy politeness and so many different ideas are being explored.

(And again, I’m not saying that each and every glass of water, every gulp or droplet of it, has to come with some metaphorical meaning. That would be insane. I’m just saying, let’s look at the ‘water’ scenes to which either the dialogue or the context draw attention.)

Well, while we’re on the subject of what the upper class wants Wilhelm to be, let’s take a look at Wilhelm’s initiation again. Here I have a confession to make: When I discussed the scene in which he’s gagged and tied to the statue, I purposefully left out a detail about that scene because it has to do with the ‘water’ metaphor. There was so much going on in that hazing scene (the metaphorical gag, the tying up, the statue, the meaning of Michelangelo’s ‘David’, etc.) that I felt that going into the ‘water’ metaphor on top of that would have made the whole article far too long.

Please try to recall what the set-up is: Wilhelm is gagged (foreshadowing the metaphorical ‘gag’ the Royal Court will place on him on the matter of his same-sex relationship), he’s tied to the statue of a future King (foreshadowing his being forced to embrace his role as future King of Sweden) and…

…he is being doused with water (!) from a whole lot of squirt guns all around him. (That’s the part I had intentionally left out in my earlier post about this scene).

So, visually we’re told three things here, and this foreshadows how Wilhelm will be treated for two entire seasons: He will be metaphorically ‘gagged’; he will be forced to ‘embrace’ his role as future King, and he will have to do all of that while pretty much ‘drowning’ in feelings (for Simon). So, that’s all three things in one clever film shot: The enforced silence, the way he will be suddenly thrown into this role as Crown Prince that he never chose and all of that while being so very, very deeply in love with Simon.

No wonder he looks absolutely terrified in that shot.

I feel a bit lazy today so I’m not going to sketch the next two shots, but you know which ones I’m talking about. (Who am I kidding, if you’ve come to my substack to read this absurdly long article, you’ve probably watched the show a gazillion times at this point.)

Right after the statue shot, come two shots that match it in their symbolic depth: One medium close-up of a still-gagged Wilhelm on a dog leash, and then a wide shot in which he’s forced to crawl through the basin of the empty fountain in the school garden (still gagged and on that leash).

While the statue shot foreshadows what will be happening to Wilhelm for the first two seasons, the other two shots represent an alternative reality: They show us what the upper classes (the Royal Court et al.) want Wilhelm to become once they’ve broken him. They show us what life they have planned for him, what kind of life he should lead under their influence. Because once he graduates (and presumably becomes King at some point) they want to have him on a leash like an obedient little dog. He’s still gagged in that dog-leash shot (so you know what that means for his wish to come out), and he’s crawling through an empty (!) fountain in that wide shot.

Read: What the powers that be want is for him to become an obedient Crown Prince (and then King) who never speaks out about his sexuality and who is devoid of any and all kinds of deeper feelings (hence the lack of ‘water’, i.e. the empty fountain). There is a shallow puddle in one corner of the basin in that wide shot, so presumably his future tormentors would allow Wilhelm to have some shallow feelings every now and then (think discreet hookups, hushed-up affairs with men or just use of sex workers). But those would just be puddles, largely the fountain would be empty and devoid of any real deep ‘water’ for Wilhelm, i.e. his handlers wouldn’t allow him to have a deep and meaningful relationship with a man that he could have out in the open.

What’s particularly horrific about that wide shot is the fact that there are spectators lining the basin of that empty fountain, cheering this whole disgusting spectacle on as they watch Wilhelm crawl through that empty basin and towards the shallow puddle. We’ve seen the spectacle with the paparazzi following Wilhelm’s every move at the beginning of season one, now imagine what a life in the limelight like this is like when there are people salivating about your private life every day, all while you’re not even allowed to have the love of your life by your side (metaphorically: an empty fountain) and are begging on your knees for any emotional crumb you can get (metaphorically: the shallow puddle).

Nowhere is the ‘water’ metaphor as brutal as it is in these shots showing Wilhelm’s initiation (literally an initiation into his school, figuratively into a society that would do something like this to him).

But the symbolism is, of course, brilliant here and the way these initiation scenes are all executed is fantastic. There’s nothing in them that’s unintentional; everything (down to the spitting scene) has a deeper meaning.

And as pointed out above, the statue shot foreshadows the first two seasons. The dog-leash close-up and the empty-fountain wide shot, on the other hand, give us an aborted storyline, seeing as Wilhelm has taken one first step towards deleting that horrific future outcome with his speech at the end of season two and pushed it into an alternative universe.

Any more sad scenes with any metaphorical ‘water’ in them? Why, yes. Look no further than Micke Eriksson’s crappy little apartment.

I think a lot of people have picked up on the fact that some of Micke Eriksson’s paintings aren’t hanging on the wall, but did you actually notice what’s in these paintings? No?

Water! 

It’s not that Simon’s dad is incapable of feeling emotions or engaging in relationships, oh, no. But the show is brutally honest here, too: This man can’t really seem to find a proper way to deal with any of that; his ‘water’ paintings aren’t hanging where they’re supposed to be. They’re leaning against the wall and turned sideways at that. (What a thing to say about someone’s relationships!) It’s just the same as with the ‘music’ metaphor, actually. Remember when we talked about Micke’s keyboard not being used the way it’s supposed to be used? He uses it as a clothes rack. On a show where ‘music’ metaphorically represents love, this means he absolutely can feel love, he just doesn’t seem to be able to find a proper way to express it. Same thing with his ‘water’ paintings.

But the symbolism of the ‘water’ paintings goes far deeper than that, actually.

The first ‘water’ picture is right in the hall of Micke’s apartment (a picture of a river or a lake with a lot of boulders in it). That one’s even hanging on the wall, so it’s not like all is lost in the feelings department for poor Micke. Although the fact that it’s in the hall makes me give the whole thing a suspicious side-eye to be honest; a hall is the part of your apartment everyone gets to see every time you open your door. So, maybe the picture hanging where it’s supposed to be hanging is just a façade he presents to the world. Who knows.

Be that as it may…The second picture of his that we get to see is the huge painting of Brooklyn Bridge above the couch in the living room – the same couch that Simon finds his dad lying on passed out in episode four of season one. The Brooklyn Bridge painting above the couch adds a tragic layer to that whole scene: Micke is metaphorically sleeping under a bridge – a clever commentary on the fact that, were this whole show set in a different country with less of a welfare state than Sweden has, Micke would undoubtedly live the life of a homeless guy out on the street.

But then, the painting of any kind of bridge also implies ‘water’. So, there are actually a lot of feelings in Micke’s personal space.

It’s mainly the third painting, the one that’s still standing around, leaning against the wall (turned sideways) that I’d like to talk about here. It’s again a ‘water’ picture: the painting of a pier. There’s a lot of water in this painting, but there’s no boat or ship to depart from this lonely pier and take to the water, so to speak, which gives us, the viewers, a strangely trapped feeling. In other words, there are lots of feelings and relationships in Micke’s life, but he has no way to navigate them. (And that’s on top of the painting leaning against the wall, turned sideways.) And the lonely pier without a boat shows us that Micke has no way out of this situation anymore either. He is at a dead end, both literally in this apartment and figuratively in this awful life numbed by alcohol and drugs.

It’s the poster hanging above the pier painting that provides us with the necessary context, though: It says ‘New York’ in big letters and features the Statue of Liberty. It’s only when taken together that those two pictures present us with the symbolism we need to understand Micke’s situation: There once was a time when he dreamed of getting out, New York and the world at large representing more than just actual places, symbolizing freedom (the Statue of Liberty!), a life free of constraints, free of constant pain (both physical and emotional), a meaningful life with meaningful relationships. But taken together with the lonely pier picture, we now understand that Micke will never be able to reach this metaphorical utopia. He’s trapped on that pier now, unable to escape, with no boat or ship in sight, incapable of navigating the metaphorical (i.e. emotional) ‘waters’ out there.

And now look at this shot here: Simon is visiting his dad in episode one of season one, and he’s sitting down right in front of that pier painting. In fact, the way the painting is positioned behind him makes it seem as if Simon’s (very similarly coloured jacket and arm) have become one with the wooden planks of that lonely, empty pier:

Translation: Simon is in a similar situation to his father. He, too, is trapped on a metaphorical pier like that. He, too, is in danger of staying in a dead-end situation (literally here in Bjärstad and figuratively with his life).

And what is most fascinating about the painting of the lonely pier? The fact that we find that motif repeated in Simon’s own room back at his mother’s place.

We have discussed the ‘Music’ poster in front of which Wilhelm and Simon kiss in episode five of season one and how it relates to the music=love metaphor. But what I had intentionally omitted in the Music metaphor article was a discussion of the pictures on Simon’s other wall: Because, you see, there’s a picture of a pier on that wall, too – echoing the one leaning against the wall in his father’s living room. 

(I know, I know, dear readers, you’ve all been staring at the two boys kissing in front of those pictures, but I’m the kind of person who stares at pictures on a wall in a scene like that. Some clever set designer has clearly spent a lot of time working on this, so we better make sure we take a close look at that wall and admire their handiwork.)

A lot has been said about these pictures (the map of the US, and the ones saying ‘Paris’ and ‘London, Covent Garden, Soho’, etc.) and how they symbolize Simon’s wish to eventually get out of Bjärstad and see the world, but, you see, just as with the pictures in his father’s living room, it’s the context that gives them meaning. Because what’s crucially important about those pictures is the way they’ve been arranged on that wall. It’s only together with the pier picture that they are suddenly imbued with meaning: They all surround the picture of the empty pier!

Oh, but do we see a tiny difference to Micke’s pier picture there? Yes, I think so. The pier picture in Simon’s room has something in the very background that could potentially be a boat or a ship (it’s a bit blurry, but there’s definitely something there). So, as opposed to his dad, Simon might, just might get a chance to escape that lonely pier by navigating across the metaphorical ‘water’.

‘There’s no way out of Bjärstad anymore,’ is what his dad’s pictures are saying ‘There’s no exit anymore. No getting out of this situation. There’s just an empty pier and a lot of water you can’t navigate.’

The meaning is slightly different when it comes to Simon’s pictures, though: Right now there might just be a yearning to get out of here and see the world (remember that seeing the world has more than just a literal meaning and means more than just literal places on a map; as we’ve established above, this is also about experiencing freedom and a happy life), but in the long run there might be a way out for Simon.

Simon’s loneliness is still very much present, yes. The empty pier is right there, as well. But there’s something that might provide him with a means to escape. 

Note that this image intertwines the idea of getting out of Bjärstad with the ‘water’ metaphor (feelings/a relationship). Read: It’s only through the water (his feelings for Wilhelm presumably, his relationship with him) that Simon will get to leave that empty pier and get out of Bjärstad. The only way for Simon to get out into the world (i.e. be free) is through the ‘water’, through his feelings, through Wilhelm. It’s such a clever visual metaphor.

This pier picture in Simon’s room also directly connects us to the scene I analyzed at the beginning of this article: Simon has already been on a boat. Literally. He’s been trying to navigate the ‘waters’ already. And Wilhelm was already giving him advice on how to do that, standing on an actual wooden pier (well, more of a small dock, but you know what I mean). All the ingredients were already there, but the advice was wrong and the boat was wrong and rowing was totally, absolutely the wrong way to go about it. Simon is not going to be able to ‘get out into the world’ if the relationship with Wilhelm remains on the surface (we’ve established that).

So, what would be the right vehicle? How does he metaphorically ‘get out of Bjärstad and into the world’ through Wilhelm? If the rowing boat (superficial friendship) is the wrong vehicle to get away from that lonely pier, what is the right vehicle?

This is where the arguably cleverest line of this entire show comes into play. 

You know, I’ve already told you about my favourite line in season two, the meta-level joke about how to establish who the ‘winner’ of the ‘competition’ is: “The screen on the wall tells us who the winner is.”

But there is one line on this show that’s even better. It’s my all-time favourite line of both seasons shown so far. Can you guess which one it is?

“How did the Vasa Ship sink?” Wilhelm shouts at his initiation party, not knowing that he is foreshadowing something very important about his own storyline and that the script is winking at the show’s audience in a very meta-level kind of way there.

Literally, this is just a reference to the famous Vasa Ship, a ship that sank in the 1600s and was salvaged largely intact in the 20th century, which makes it a huge Swedish tourist attraction today.

But if you’re just looking at the textual level (the literal level of this show) and neglect both the subtext and metatext, you’re not getting what this reference is all about:

There is a metaphorical ‘ship’ that went deep, deep down into the metaphorical ‘waters’ and still remained intact. A ship!

We all know Lisa Ambjörn is a clever writer; you know it, I know it. But this is the pinnacle of meta cleverness: Because, you see, the vehicle that Simon needs to take to get off that lonely pier is not a rowing boat, it’s a ‘ship’! Metaphorical superficial ‘rowing’ in a rowing boat is not going to cut it. That won’t work. He has to take a ‘ship’. And not just any ship: The Vasa Ship.

This is probably the only TV show in the world in which a sinking ship is a positive metaphor, where sinking and going down all the way into the deep metaphorical ‘waters’ (read: feelings/a relationship) is a good thing.

This is the way off the pier, out of Bjärstad, into the world…and ultimately into a future life of happiness and freedom. It’s a ship! A ship that will remain intact underwater. 

In other words…

The Vasa Ship is Ship Wilmon!

So, there’s your clever meta reference to ‘shipping’, written especially for all of you crazy fans by Lisa Ambjörn.

Ship Wilmon (the Vasa Ship) will have to submerge itself in the metaphorical ‘waters’, deep ‘waters’, troubled ‘waters’ at times, because that is the only way off that lonely pier for our characters, the only way to freedom and happiness. The only way to navigate those ‘waters’ is to really, truly dive in. Then, despite submerging itself, Ship Wilmon will remain intact and will, in fact, become famous throughout the nation of Sweden as THE ship par excellence. (It’s always fun when writers praise themselves a bit, isn’t it?) In other words, Ship Wilmon will become world-famous.

Note how beautifully the ‘ship’ metaphor connects to the ‘water’ metaphor connects to Simon’s loneliness connects to Simon’s wish to get out and ‘into the world’ connects to Simon’s pier picture connects to Wilhelm’s wrong rowing advice on the lake connects to the pier picture in Micke’s apartment…

All of these metaphors are connected, intricately intertwined and interwoven, and all of them come back to one thing and one thing only: Simon and Wilhelm’s way out is through the metaphorical ‘water’ and on a metaphorical ‘ship’!

And that’s why that sentence is my favourite sentence in the entire show. It underscores like no other reference why the ‘water’ metaphor is the deepest metaphor on ‘Young Royals’, and it highlights how well written this whole show actually is.

While we’re on the subject of depth (and still mentally standing inside Simon’s room, I suppose), you did notice the fish, right? The fish tank that’s strategically placed right next to the pier picture and the pictures saying, ‘Paris’, ‘London’, etc.

I mean, the showrunners could have easily decided to give Simon different pets, couldn’t they? I’m sure nobody would have had any objections if Simon had been given a litter of kittens or puppies. But he has fish!

Fish live underwater. Fish are a living representation of those deep, deep feelings.

Did I just give the fish scene between Wilhelm and Simon a far deeper meaning? Yes, I believe I did.

Because while it’s true that the fish naming was to some extent an improvised scene, the fact that there’s a fish tank in Simon’s room in the first place was most certainly well-thought-out symbolism.

And look at the way Wilhelm and Simon are embracing in that scene where they talk about the fish: They’re all wrapped up in each other in front of those creatures that symbolically represent that deep ‘water’. But not chest to chest, the way you would usually expect two people to hug each other, no, they’re both facing the fish, confronting themselves with those deep feelings, I suppose. And the way their hands criss-cross and intertwine across Simon’s torso makes this absolutely clear: They’re one unit and they’re in this together. There's nothing superficial going on here. Their feelings go all the way down. This is a truly profound relationship.

That’s why it hurts so badly when Simon sits (with his headphones in his ears) in front of the fish tank in season two, the ‘music’ metaphor and the ‘water’ metaphor once again intersecting: His need for love (music) being shown in the way he’s wearing his headphones, staring at those deep feelings (underwater creatures, i.e. fish) in front of his eyes.

A lot of people probably rejoiced when they heard Simon refuse to name his fish for Marcus, but did you catch the deeper meaning of this scene? Simon is doing more than just gatekeeping a precious memory he formed with Wilhelm. The fish are representations of deep feelings (hence underwater) and Simon is refusing to share any of those feelings with Marcus. He’s refusing to even just name those feelings. Nothing could be clearer than the meaning of the ‘water’ metaphor right here. Note the contrast in the blocking of this scene, as well: Wilhelm and Simon are all wrapped up in each other’s embrace in front of those metaphorical ‘fish’. Marcus and Simon, on the other hand, are on opposite sides of the room. Marcus is staring at the ‘fish’; he clearly wants something out of this situation. But Simon refuses to name the fish for him and even turns around as he pulls off his shirt.

Because as I said above, Marcus and ‘water’ references don’t mix on this show. Ever.

The only way we (arguably) get some metaphorical ‘water’ around Marcus is in a different state of matter:

Remember the “I don’t know why I can’t just fall in love with Marcus,” scene? It’s snowing heavily as Rosh tries to train Simon for the very same (fake) ‘competition’ that we all should know by now doesn’t matter (because Simon cannot be ‘won’ by the ‘other team’, i.e. Marcus). The whole conversation Simon, Rosh and Ayub are having after Simon just gives up on training (that’s how much this whole metaphorical ‘competition’ even matters to him) revolves around Marcus’ and Simon’s situationship and Simon’s lack of feelings for Marcus. And throughout that entire scene, it keeps snowing heavily, i.e. the metaphorical ‘water’ is shown to be in a different state of matter. You could say that Simon’s feelings for Marcus are a bit, uhm, frosty. And keep in mind that this is a scene in which the three of them are specifically discussing the fact that Simon isn’t feeling anything for Marcus, that his feelings for him are far cooler than they should be.

Now, I know that that entire snow scene could be a coincidence. The show is filmed in Sweden; it’s bound to snow at some point or other. But keep in mind that, on screen, the weather is often used as a vehicle for symbolism. Whether you see characters breaking down and crying just as a torrential downpour starts, getting angry or desperate during a particularly violent thunderstorm or falling in love right in front of the most beautiful sunset that has just the right ratio of pinked-up fluffy clouds to radiant evening sunlight, the weather is always important. It’s not that you, as a filmmaker, can manufacture the weather, but you can certainly wait for it by delaying filming a scene until it’s just right.

So, while we should be cautious with attaching a symbolic meaning to every single snowflake we ever see on screen, it’s at least a possibility that it’s intentional – especially when it happens more than once.

So, does it happen more than once? You bet.

Consider yet another scene featuring Marcus: The infamous ‘detour’ scene in episode two of season two which we’ve already discussed. When Wilhelm and Simon run out of the forest and catch sight of Marcus on his tractor, there’s suddenly snow lying around everywhere. But there was no snow earlier as Wilhelm and Simon started their run next to the lake; there was also no snow to be seen while they were running along the trail through the forest. Translation: As long as the metaphor concentrated on Wilhelm and Simon’s relationship it all revolved around the lake, the metaphorical ‘water’ (i.e. their feelings), but the moment season two took a metaphorical narrative ‘detour’ towards the Marcus storyline, the snow suddenly appeared out of nowhere, the ‘water’ (feelings) turned quite frosty, indeed.

And then there’s another scene (remember the rule of three? If something happens three times on screen it’s definitely a thing): In the season opener of season two, Simon climbs out of the ‘Marcus taxi’ (that isn’t a taxi; remember that contextual metaphor?) and almost instantly steps into some snow. This comes seconds after Marcus asked Simon, “Should I go with you?” and Simon replied, “No need,” rather noncommittally and, dare I say, coolly. The snow that Simon walks across to get away from Marcus' car is nicely lit by some lighting technician; it practically glows in the dark, so we really get the message: That snow is the first hint of frostiness we get when it comes to Simon’s feelings for Marcus. Note, that we see Wilhelm walk up to the same party seconds later and just a few meters away from Simon, but somehow Wilhelm never steps into that snow or comes anywhere near it at all (read: Simon’s and Wilhelm’s feelings for each other aren’t cold at all).

And there’s yet another scene that makes the snow=frosty feelings metaphor abundantly clear. This time the snow is even more clearly presented as something that carries symbolic meaning: Simon and Ayub are entering the karaoke club to meet Marcus on Simon’s ‘date’, and just as they do, they complain about the fact that it’s snowing (out of the blue). If this didn’t mean anything, why have this scene at all? Why not just start the scene inside the club? Why draw attention to the snow through the dialogue? And why, in God’s name, do it right before we get the karaoke scene of all scenes? We’ve discussed the fact that karaoke is a contextual metaphor for the fake ‘relationship’ Marcus and Simon have embarked on. We’ve also talked about Marcus being bad at making, ahem, ‘music’ (metaphorically: love), and the metaphor of Simon and Marcus not harmonizing when they sing. And right before that very karaoke scene we get actual dialogue pointing out to us that the only ‘water’ we ever get around Marcus is frozen, i.e. snow. Call me suspicious, but the snow in the Marcus scenes looks like it means something.

Okay, confession time: These snow scenes do not appear in the order I have just described them in here; it was just more fun to write them up that way.

Here’s the actual order in which they appear (and you’ll now see immediately that the progression of these scenes supports a metaphorical reading rather neatly):

• We get a first hint at the snow=frosty feelings metaphor when Simon climbs out of the ‘Marcus taxi’ in the season opener of season two and steps into a small pile of snow.

• Then we get a more elaborate (verbal!) confirmation of the snow metaphor in the same episode when Simon and Ayub (both annoyed) mention the snow just as they walk into the karaoke bar.

• In the next episode, Simon and Wilhelm suddenly run into Marcus on their ‘detour’ deviating from their metaphorical ‘trail’, and there’s now snow literally everywhere.

• And eventually this all culminates in…Simon verbally confirming that he’s not in love with Marcus and is unable to make himself fall for him, just as snow is coming down in sheets, and tons and tons of it fall onto his poor bedazzled head.

You can see the progression here: how the snow gets ever more and the context in which it appears becomes ever clearer, as well.

That’s not to say there won’t be other scenes in which there is snow on this show. As I said, the show is set and filmed in Sweden; there’s no avoiding it. But we’ve already established that, if either the dialogue or the context draws attention to it, then it might mean something.

Actually, off the top of my head, the ‘Lonely Ones’ scene might be one where the snow just ended up on screen by accident. But then…maybe it didn’t. It’s not that Wilhelm’s feelings for Simon are cold, far from it. The unfathomably deep lake in those shots, the lake he’s cut off from by a fence, shows us pretty clearly what Wilhelm’s feelings for Simon are, so the metaphorical ‘snow’ is definitely not about Simon. But Wilhelm is probably cold to the rest of the world at that point, so snow might be a fitting image, after all. (And let’s not forget who belongs to that ‘rest of the world’: As Felice walks up to Wilhelm, she has to wade through a long stretch of snow in that scene. Just saying. Both Marcus and Felice, Simon’s and Wilhelm’s respective situationships are connected to snow…Coincidence? Who knows.)

Anyway, we get lots and lots of ‘water’ whenever Simon is around Wilhelm, but no ‘water’ at all, fake animated water on a screen or just straight-up ‘snow’ whenever Simon is around Marcus. So you can add that to our list of subtextual clues that Marcus and Simon were never going to work out.

Things are much different when it comes to Simon’s feelings for Wilhelm: There are ‘water’ scenes galore around the two of them. 

One beautiful scene in which the ‘music’ and the ‘water’ metaphor are intertwined once again is the one in which Simon tells Wilhelm that the song Simon wrote is all about him. It’s set in the music room (again). As we’ve already seen, this show has carved out ‘music’ (read: love) as the metaphorical space for these two characters, which is why the music room is often at the very heart of their interactions.

Did you notice what Simon is doing when he says, “Wilhelm, the song is about you,”? Yes, he’s shown to be staring out of the window where the unruly surface of the lake can be seen looming large in the shot. The metaphorical ‘water’ is behind a glass pane again, unreachable for the two characters at that moment, but it’s still there and it’s not going anywhere, and Simon is looking straight at it right before he drops that truth bomb on Wilhelm.

The scene ends with Simon storming off, and Wilhelm having a fit that might or might not tip over into a panic attack. We see Wilhelm breathe in and out deeply and, you’ve guessed it, look out of the window too – presumably because catching sight of what matters (the metaphorical ‘water’, his feelings for Simon, his relationship with him) will calm him down. Notably, this shot is set-up in such a way that we see Wilhelm in profile: So, we, the audience, do not get to see the window (and by extension the lake behind it). Translation: The characters are in a very dark place at that point, and we the audience can’t even see the prospect of their relationship anymore.

As you can see, some of these ‘water’ scenes are sad, some are happy, and some are sad and turn happy once the motif is picked up again.

One such example is the scene in season two episode two in which Wilhelm emerges from the shower of the third-years, wearing his earbuds (don’t do this at home, kids; it might damage your precious Airpods). This doesn’t necessarily imply that he was literally listening to music while in the shower, but subtextually the fact that he shows up on screen with his hair all wet and his earbuds in his ears, once again, intertwines the two main metaphors of this show: the ‘music’ metaphor and the ‘water’ metaphor. Wilhelm and Simon are broken up at that point, and Wilhelm is in need of ‘music’ (love), craving it with all his heart (read: ear, hence the earbuds) and all of that in connection with ‘water’ (i.e. a lot of feelings must have been, uhm, involved while he was in that shower).

That theme is then picked up again in the cold open of episode five of season two while he is literally shown taking a shower, this time without any earbuds. Wilhelm has just kissed Simon. No need for any earbuds anymore. He has just listened to Simon’s song (remember that ‘music’ means love on his show), to actual, real ‘music’ and he is ecstatic about it. You rarely ever see Wilhelm so happy as in that moment when the feelings wash over him (did I say feelings, I meant water). He is washing off the metaphorical make-up of the traditional prince, and he is literally washing it off with ‘water’, i.e. it’s his feelings for Simon, his relationship with Simon, that help him wash off the traditional prince role.

This scene is intercut with a scene in Simon’s room: Simon is sitting in front of the fish and sniffing Wilhelm’s sweater. So, we get a ‘water’ scene for Wilhelm and a ‘water’ scene for Simon being intercut with each other. Simon is staring at the metaphorical ‘fish’, examining his deep, deep feelings for Wilhelm at the same time as Wilhelm's feelings-shower is taking place. Neat symbolism, that. And just to make sure we really, really get it, the show then cuts away from those two intercut scenes and to…

…a group of boys rowing out on the lake. The metaphorical contrast couldn’t be any greater. 

Now, at the beginning of this article, I promised that we would be returning to Wilhelm and Simon’s lakeside stroll in episode five of season one (that lake scene that seems to be a bit of a fandom favourite from what I’ve gathered in the short time since watching this show). And return to it, we will. I just have to give you a little advance warning: I seem to be quickly becoming the ruiner of fandom favourites when it comes to turning seemingly lovely and happy scenes into subtextually sad and melancholy ones. As I said before, this show is stacked to the rafters with scenes that seem happy on the literal surface of the text, but turn out to be actually quite angsty and sad once you examine the subtextual layer underneath.

In that sense (and hopefully only in that one), I have already ruined the morning-breath scene by pointing out that it’s not just a playful and lovely scene, but that it actually foreshadows Wilhelm’s statement of denial. And I have probably dampened everyone’s enthusiasm about the piano scene in episode three of season one when I ruined that one, as well: The piano scene, too, is not a truly happy scene. The metaphor of the ‘sheet music’ and the ‘playing music by ear’ metaphor show us that the two characters are, at that point in the story, not on the same page when it comes to their ideas about love.

Having done all of that, I have now shown up to also ruin the lakeside stroll scene in episode five of season one for you, at least when it comes to its metaphorical subtext. So proceed at your own discretion. Because what looks like a carefree and happy stroll is actually subtextually kind of melancholy, too.

Did you notice that despite the sunshine on Simon’s face, the shimmering surface of the lake, the stolen kiss on their walk through the underbrush, the smile in Wilhelm’s eyes…despite all of that, the two characters keep discussing how cold the water is? (Now I don’t think this has the same meaning as the frozen water, i.e. snow, in the context of the Marcus scenes. I think it has a different meaning here.) They talk about how, if they jumped in, the water would be just 2°C (for my American readers, that’s very cold). It’s difficult to tell what Wilhelm is miming precisely as he says, “Like this. Like this,” but that (probably improvised) miming scene could potentially be him doing an impression of a fish.

So, you can see that their conversation revolves around the metaphorical deep ‘water’ (their feelings for each other/their relationship), around leaping into that water and getting fully immersed in it, but then ultimately not daring to do so because it’s so shockingly cold.

In other words, there are unfathomably deep feelings involved here. The two characters are standing right in front of a gigantic lake. So, so much metaphorical ‘water’! But they’re not daring to get in…yet. ‘Jumping into the cold water’ in this context seems to me to have a very similar meaning to the English expression ‘be thrown in at the deep end’, i.e. getting into something you’re not yet fully prepared for: In other words, this is about committing to this relationship in a way that would eventually lead to them being fully open about it, but also being fully open with each other about each and every secret they might harbour, i.e. it’s like jumping into the lake out in the open where anyone could potentially see them and where they would have to be completely naked and wet in front of each other. But, oh, that’s too shocking to contemplate for our two characters for now. Being open about their feelings, fully immersing themselves in the ‘water’, fully committing to it all, is, at that point in the story, too much too soon.

To make sure there are no misunderstandings: The fact that ‘the water is too cold’ doesn’t mean that their feelings for each other are cold. It means that the jump would be too shocking. It would shock them into a heart attack most likely. So, in other words, they’re not ready to be open and out about their relationship, and they’re not fully ready to be open with each other about everything in their lives either. The water is cold means they’re both scared. Which is exactly supported by what they say next in their conversation: Simon first asks if Wilhelm would make out with him if the bodyguards weren’t there. So that’s a direct reference to a state of mind in which you don’t do things that you really, really want to do because other people are watching. That’s one of the many negative aspects that come with being closeted. Note that Simon doesn’t try to force anything here; he just asks.

Then the two of them start to wonder what the bodyguards (i.e. the world out there, other people, their potential audience) are thinking. “What do you think they think we’re talking about?” is a question that just screams ‘closeted’, and it means you’re speculating what other people think and say about you.

And then they come to the conclusion that the bodyguards most likely think that they (i.e. Wilhelm and Simon) are talking about ‘the water being cold’. If you remember what we have established about that phrase above, then that means that Wilhelm and Simon decide that the bodyguards think that Wilhelm and Simon are talking about being unable to take that final leap of faith, the one where you commit to a relationship to the point of eventually coming out to the world (metaphorically: taking a leap into the cold water) and also keep no secrets from each other anymore. That’s what they think the bodyguards think they’re talking about. Phew, that’s a complicated sentence; let me rephrase that:

The show hints at the fact that the bodyguards not only know perfectly well that the future King of Sweden just had sex with his boyfriend and is making doe-eyes at him during a lovely stroll right now, but also that said bodyguards know how difficult it will be for their charge (i.e. Wilhelm) to be open about this relationship (‘the water is cold’). That’s what the show is saying about those bodyguards, and that’s what Wilhelm thinks they’re thinking. This is then reinforced by the fact that Wilhelm literally shouts, “The water is cold!” at them, i.e. Wilhelm is subtextually shouting, “We’re too scared to take that final leap yet!” And both bodyguards nod because who wouldn’t. The bodyguards are us. We all get it. Everyone watching this show gets it. Certainly everyone who’s ever been in a same-sex relationship – even if none of us ever had to endure the added difficulty of being Royalty.

So, while that lake scene is still beautiful, I guess – and I hope I haven’t utterly ruined it for you – it’s by far not a carefree scene. Subtextually, it’s the opposite of carefree, actually. It’s all about those fears and apprehensions. The water is cold and scary.

Look, even Simon, who’s comfortable with himself and completely out to everyone in his life, understands that, at this point. He too doesn’t want to leap into that cold water. They’re both not prepared for that yet.

How much does Simon understand it? Well, look no further than the brilliant shot we get from earlier in the day: 

Simon has just snuck out of Wilhelm’s room and is pretending to come to school from the bus stop. As he does so, we see him cautiously walk over a wooden beam that’s lying across a brook (i.e. water!), trying to keep his balance. In other words, there’s water involved (feelings/a relationship) and he’s shown doing a balancing act. Because that’s what it’s like for him now: He’s just spent a first night with someone he’s fallen for hard and fast. But he’s also out and that person is not. So that’s a balancing act, right there. We can see that he looks quite happy in that shot, so it’s not the kind of balancing act that he was asked to perform in the rowing boat (trying to be just superficial friends), but it’s a balancing act nonetheless – especially since there are feelings (water) involved in that relationship (again water). It’s a balancing act across the metaphorical ‘water’.

In the end, all of that ‘water’ imagery, this entire well-developed and consistent metaphor, and especially that lake scene where they don’t dare to take that final leap because they’re scared of the water being too cold leads me to one conclusion I’m sure you’ve arrived at by now, as well:

At some point in season three, Wilhelm and Simon have to get into the ‘water’! Properly. Fully. Get wet. They have to really dive in. Both literally and metaphorically. And preferably into the lake itself. They have to become one with their feelings and take that metaphorical ‘ship’ that needs to be submerged. They need to immerse themselves in the water. They need to finally take that one big leap where all of it happens out in the open. That’s the only logical conclusion to that slow metaphorical build-up.

Whether that should happen in the context of another rowing competition (out on the lake) or separately, I don’t know.

(May I also remind you of the fact that the castle is situated right next to a lake, but Wilhelm has never, to my knowledge, over the course of the two whole seasons shown so far, looked out of a castle window and at that lake. We have seen establishing shots of the castle with the lake right next to it, sure, but Wilhelm has never actually looked at that ‘water’. So, that’s something else to contemplate for season three.)

One thing is for sure: If there is, indeed, another rowing competition, Simon cannot be shown rowing in the same boat as Wilhelm (because metaphorically they don’t have that kind of superficial friendship). Wilhelm can be shown rowing with some other guys with whom he presumably shares that sort of superficial relationship, but Simon can’t do that with him, sorry. Since Simon, however, has to be on the same team as Wilhelm (they have to win together, remember?), he can only be the coxswain in the boat, which is exactly what August predicted back in season one. Notably, the cox is usually facing the other direction than every rower in the boat (all those rich, privileged boys), so that checks out, metaphorically speaking: The working-class boy will be facing forward. He will be steering the boat. The cox can also shout his lungs out at those spoiled brats, so I’m guessing Simon should be fine with that, too. Giving orders and yelling at other people what to do – that could be some nice character development for someone who has so far been shown to mainly be a caregiver who likes to give everyone a second, third and fourth chance.

What I don’t know is if Wilhelm and Simon’s leap into the metaphorical ‘water’, their immersion in it, will happen in that rowing competition context. Because, you see, it’s also possible that that leap into the water will come in the form of an intimacy scene. To be honest, I half-dread it because scenes like that are a dime a dozen and could turn out to be awfully cliché. On the other hand, this show has so far proven to be very realistic and authentic when it comes to its intimacy scenes, so maybe we can trust them to pull that one off, as well. Who knows…

Why do I think an intimacy scene in the metaphorical and literal ‘water’ could at least be hinted at? Well, because there are a few lines of dialogue in the season opener of season two that seem to foreshadow exactly that. “Qui a fait l’amour dans la piscine?” is the question Nils and Vincent are posing after their vacation. And right there we have, once again, the allusion to the metaphorical ‘water’ being connected to some rather, uhm, amourous feelings – a none-too-subtle reference to someone making love in the water. This just screams foreshadowing.

Interestingly, the vacation Nils and Vincent are alluding to here was a trip to the Seychelles islands. Just in case you didn’t know: Male homosexuality was illegal there until very, very recently. So, if you’re a clever writer, this is the type of place you would choose to get a subtextual message across about the times that are a-changin’, if you know what I mean.

Ultimately, however, we should keep in mind what it is that Vincent tells August there, “I guess you had to have been there.” Yes, August, you were not there to witness that lovemaking scene in the water, thankfully. You’ve witnessed (and recorded and leaked) far too much of that sort already. So it’s good that at least some people in the Seychelles didn’t have to suffer your presence while they were intimate with each other. You didn’t witness it. Nils and Vincent didn’t witness it. And notably we, the audience, didn’t either. Which seems to foreshadow that, if a scene like this ever comes to pass in season three, it will be neither for August’s nor for our, the audience’s, eye. If it ever happens, it’ll most likely only be hinted at and then the metaphorical curtains, just like the real ones in Wilhelm’s bedroom, will be drawn shut. Because ultimately those are teenagers, and what they do when they immerse themselves in that metaphorical ‘water’ is none of our business.

The only thing that should interest us is that Wilhelm and Simon finally get aboard that metaphorical ‘Vasa Ship’, the only ship in the world that is supposed to go underwater and get fully submerged in it and that will remain intact while doing so. Jumping into the metaphorical ‘water’, come spring or summer, and discovering that the ‘water’ isn’t quite as ‘cold’ as they had thought, is something these two characters should do. Because being completely and fully immersed in metaphorical ‘water’ out in the open is exactly what this ‘ship’, Ship Wilmon, needs; it’s what those two characters need to finally be able to leave that metaphorical pier they’ve been stranded on for far too long.

~fin~

Phew, this was a long one. Thank you for staying with me till that very wet and watery end. I hope you had fun splashing around in the water.

Now you’ll have something you can look out for in season three: ‘water’ scenes!

If any of these things happen, you will now instantly know what’s up (metaphorically speaking): Wilhelm and Simon getting caught in the pouring rain and getting all wet; any of the characters staring at the lake; any of the characters in the shower or a bathtub; snow, ice, sleet or any other forms of frozen water on screen; puddles; fountains; brooks; swimming pools; pictures of oceans, rivers and lakes; Wilhelm and Simon finally diving into the water…The metaphor should, uh, hold water whenever and wherever it’s applied.

And now for a short reminder. So far we have examined:

• The most beautiful metaphor on this show: the Music metaphor

• The deepest metaphor on this show: that’s the article about the Water metaphor, you’ve just read

• And the funniest metaphor on this show: the Competition metaphor

Come back to this substack next week when we will (hopefully) examine yet another metaphor on ‘Young Royals’. So, watch this space or, you know, subscribe. (You know you want to.)