JAWS Shark Artwork is Public Domain for Over 50 Years

When the paperback edition of JAWS hit store shelves, it wasn’t just the gripping story that caused a sensation — it was the unforgettable cover art that truly turned JAWS into a cultural juggernaut. That chilling image of a great white shark surging toward a lone swimmer didn’t just sell books — it sold movie tickets. The artwork became one of the most iconic visuals in publishing history.

But here’s the shocking part: that legendary cover art? It slipped into the public domain the day the first book was sold. The reason? Artist Roger Kastel never filed the necessary copyright paperwork to protect it.

When Bantam Books commissioned the cover, Kastel took the job seriously. He visited the Museum of Natural History to study sharks and had a model stretch herself across two stools to mimic the posture of a swimmer — details that gave the final artwork its eerie realism. Universal Studios took one look at the artwork’s impact and ran with it — merchandising it endlessly for posters, t-shirts, lunch boxes, you name it. And Kastel? He never saw a dime beyond his original commission.

Here’s where it gets truly tragic: Kastel finished the painting just a year before U.S. copyright law changed in 1976. Under the outdated rules of the time, because his art wasn’t individually registered and the cover didn’t carry a copyright notice in his name, the image entered the public domain. The only thing he technically owned was the original painting — and even that mysteriously vanished during the book’s promotional blitz.

In 2014, nearing the twilight of his life, Kastel made one last attempt to reclaim rights to the work that made JAWS unforgettable. He appealed to the U.S. Copyright Office Review Board, hoping for justice. But the board’s response was brutally clear:

• The image had no separate copyright notice, so it was legally considered public domain.
• The general copyright notice on the book (“Copyright © 1974 Peter Benchley”) didn’t apply to Kastel’s cover illustration.
• Since the book wasn’t a “collective work” like a magazine or anthology, a blanket copyright didn’t cover individual elements like the cover art.
• There was no legal agreement between Benchley and Kastel that would’ve tied the artwork to Benchley’s copyright.

The board flat-out rejected Kastel’s appeal. And so, while JAWS raked in millions, turned into a blockbuster film, and became an enduring symbol of fear and summer thrill, its creator got lost in the corporate undertow.

It’s a bitter reminder of how often the “little guy” — the artist, the visionary — gets left behind while corporations cash in. They took his art. They took his credit. They took everything except the brush he used to paint it.