There is perhaps no greater isolation than dying on a wrecked ship in the middle of the ocean. This is the predicament in which the sailors of the Medusa found themselves after the French frigate was incapacitated off the western coast of Africa. The sailors hurriedly constructed a raft with the goal in mind of reaching some sort of civilization. Contrary to popular belief, the raft is not actually sinking. However, the poor men are no better off for it. Records indicate that of the more than 100 men who initially set off in search of help, fewer than 20 made it back. Disease and starvation hit hard, and the men were forced to resort to cannibalism. Abandoned by their colleagues who had climbed into ready made lifeboats and all but forgotten by the French navy—no search effort was made—the men drifted for thirteen excruciating, deadly days.

Gericault grew sort of obsessed with this event, which can pretty easily be seen in this painting. Each man and each mangled board of the raft, here being tossed about in a violent storm, is painted with meticulous detail. Those still living hold on to each other, desperately clutching at flags in search of rescue, while the dead men slip unceremoniously off of the side, out of sight and out of mind. Yet even in this horrific, dramatic painting there is still some hope. In the distance, the horizon lights up radiantly as the storm breaks apart. And on the horizon, barely visible, is the mast of the Argus, the ship that eventually rescued the seemingly damned souls. In the midst of true torture, there is hope after all.