Water as a metaphor for reality
“The Shape of Water” is the novel by Camilleri in which the iconic figure of Inspector Montalbano is introduced for the first time. It also presents us with a fascinating concept: water, by its very nature, has no shape of its own it adapts to the shape of the container that holds it.
The adaptable nature of water becomes a metaphor for a reality that, depending on context, perspective, or personal interests, can be interpreted, fluid, and often manipulated.
The taste of water: reality or perception?
So if reality is interpretable and malleable, can the same be said about our sensory perception? Can we say that water, despite having no shape, actually has a taste?
Traditionally, we are taught that water is colorless, odorless, and tasteless. But is that really true?
In fact, it’s not entirely the case.
The role of composition and treatment
Even though chemistry teaches us that pure water is tasteless, we know that the taste of water can vary significantly depending on the source. What makes the difference are the mineral salts, which can give water sweeter, more bitter, drier, or rounder notes—making one type of water more pleasant than another.
Treatments can also affect the taste of water: using chlorine to ensure microbiological safety can result in a metallic, chemical aftertaste that is not very pleasant; water from a softener will instead taste sweeter, feel smoother, and be slippery to the touch. Reverse osmosis, by eliminating most impurities, produces an extremely light water, often described as “flat” by those who drink it.
Culture and psychology of taste
The perception of water’s taste doesn’t depend solely on chemical or physical factors. So let’s ask ourselves: is there also a cultural or psychological component? The answer is yes to both.
Culture and psychology of taste
Culture plays a fundamental role in our relationship with water, shaping habits and preferences: in some Italian regions, only bottled mineral water is consumed (especially in the South, where it is perceived as safer), while in the North, tap water is more commonly used (thanks to a long-standing trust in the quality of the public water supply).
These habits vary depending on environmental conditions, local traditions, and deep-rooted preferences. The way water is socially perceived also differs: think of Japanese thermal waters, where water with beneficial properties is part of an entire wellness culture; or the water of the Ganges in India, considered sacred and imbued with deep spiritual meaning.
The weight of memories and temperature
Psychology shapes our relationship with water: our taste memory drives us to seek familiar flavors, linking the taste of water to personal memories and experiences. Our brain associates tastes with past moments and tends to prefer certain waters over others.
Temperature also plays a key role: cold water is associated with feelings of lightness and refreshment, while lukewarm water, though free of sensory defects, is generally less appreciated.
Water as an emotional product
Marketing also plays a crucial role: stripped of its basic hydration function, water becomes an emotional product, tied to messages that highlight ideas of exclusivity and luxury, leading people to perceive some waters as superior—even though the actual organoleptic differences are minimal.
This is the rise of experiential marketing, which goes beyond selling a product and instead defines and creates an experience: water becomes a metaphor for renewal and freshness.
Just like in Camilleri’s novel, water is an element that adapts and changes depending on the circumstances. Its flavor, seemingly simple and neutral, is actually the result of a combination of chemical, physical, cultural, and sensory factors.
Shape and taste are molded by conditions, making water far less anonymous than it may seem.
