Life of Pi is like a hall of mirrors. It is possible to ''see'' or ''read'' the text in so many ways that a single reading is impossible. Yann Martel does this on purpose; he plays with his readers and our desire for a single, conclusive truth. The narration is multi-faceted. On one level, Pi simply retells the adventure story of his survival, and how he managed to outwit the tiger, Richard Parker. Yet a first-person narrative is always subjective; the reader is limited by what Pi sees and feels. We view events on the lifeboat from his perspective. Moreover, we can only know Richard Parker and the other characters through Pi's perception of them, rather than having an insight into their internal thoughts for ourselves. All this means that Pi is in control of the narrative and can limit and edit our understanding of both him and events. The narration becomes more complex through the presence of an ''author'' figure who is ''transcribing'' his interviews with the older Pi who is now resident in Canada. Ostensibly this is done to underscore the veracity of Pi's story. The reader is told that this is ''a true story'' that has merely been put down on paper for us. We are asked to suspend disbelief. At the same time readers are, of course, acutely aware that they are reading a work of fiction. Martel is enjoying toying with the boundaries between truth and fiction. The mix of genres within the text also leads to a fracturing of the boundaries between truth and fiction. The introductory section set in Pondicherry serves to describe Pi's life as a schoolboy. In many ways it is a mundane childhood, but even here there are unusual aspects of his character that readers are asked to believe. These include the origin of his name, his adoption of several religions simultaneously, and his family's zoo. Despite the exoticism of his childhood narrative, it is still relatively plausible. Once on the lifeboat, readers are called upon to believe Pi's narration of the Darwinian survival contest between the animals. Readers know the very survival of this group of animals and the way they devour each other is highly contrived. But we are carried along by Pi's meditations on the nature of humans and animals, and on his survival techniques. At this point we suspect the book is an allegory, yet on the surface we can still read it as a remarkable survival story. Martel gradually increases the fantasy in the text as Pi physically weakens as his journey is prolonged. The episode when Richard Parker and Pi spend time on an island consisting of carnivorous seaweed is highly fantastical, or surreal. It calls to mind some of Gulliver's macabre encounters in Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels. The journey becomes now not one of real worlds, but of the mind and imagination. At one level, the reader can call into question Pi's sanity, and on another, Martel is revelling in his creation of imaginative worlds. In the denouement, we have the final shattering of the mirrors Martel has craftily created. The reader has followed Pi's largely chronological journey to his salvation on the shores of Mexico. We have admired his ingenuity, stamina and resourcefulness. Yet there is a sense of betrayal in the last section of the text where it is revealed, through the investigation of the Japanese shipping company, that there were no animals on the boat, only humans. This means that Pi, as the sole survivor, has not only been a murderer but also a cannibal. In our re-visioning of him he becomes more desperate and more callous as a character. Indeed, he coolly remarks: ''It is simple and brutal: a person can get used to anything, even to killing.'' This revelation is a jolt because the character of Pi we had admired has been called into question. In this twist, Martel shows us the dangers of trusting a first-person narrator. Martel also calls upon the reader to re-read the text. We must go back in our heads to work out which animal was which person, and chillingly surmise that Richard Parker and Pi are one and the same. No longer is this a simple story of a boy's survival. It is after the final twist that it is confirmed that Life of Pi is a complex allegory. Humans act in ''animal'' ways and we must ask ourselves what this means. If we return to the first section of the novel in Pondicherry, we realise that there is no easy answer to this, as animals and humans share characteristics, and yet are different. As Pi says: ''I learned that an animal is an animal, essentially and practically removed from us.'' The novel is a series of mirrors that sends us back and forth through the different narratives, reflecting multiple truths and asking us multiple questions. There are only fragments of answers. By the end of the text, Pi's name takes on extra resonance. The mathematical number pi, with its infinity of decimal places, means that it cannot be pinpointed. Similarly, Pi is hard to pin down to any fixed truth; his own story is myriad infinite fictions. Finally, as readers we hold up a mirror to ourselves. We recognise the ways in which we have read and the ways in which Martel has played with our faith in the story. Dr Maria Joseph is an English/ESL teacher at Box Hill Senior Secondary College.
Maria Joseph
February 15, 2010
Life of Pi is like a hall of mirrors. It is possible to ''see'' or ''read'' the text in so many ways that a single reading is impossible. Yann Martel does this on purpose; he plays with his readers and our desire for a single, conclusive truth.
The narration is multi-faceted. On one level, Pi simply retells the adventure story of his survival, and how he managed to outwit the tiger, Richard Parker. Yet a first-person narrative is always subjective; the reader is limited by what Pi sees and feels. We view events on the lifeboat from his perspective.
Moreover, we can only know Richard Parker and the other characters through Pi's perception of them, rather than having an insight into their internal thoughts for ourselves. All this means that Pi is in control of the narrative and can limit and edit our understanding of both him and events.
The narration becomes more complex through the presence of an ''author'' figure who is ''transcribing'' his interviews with the older Pi who is now resident in Canada. Ostensibly this is done to underscore the veracity of Pi's story. The reader is told that this is ''a true story'' that has merely been put down on paper for us. We are asked to suspend disbelief. At the same time readers are, of course, acutely aware that they are reading a work of fiction. Martel is enjoying toying with the boundaries between truth and fiction.
The mix of genres within the text also leads to a fracturing of the boundaries between truth and fiction. The introductory section set in Pondicherry serves to describe Pi's life as a schoolboy. In many ways it is a mundane childhood, but even here there are unusual aspects of his character that readers are asked to believe. These include the origin of his name, his adoption of several religions simultaneously, and his family's zoo. Despite the exoticism of his childhood narrative, it is still relatively plausible.
Once on the lifeboat, readers are called upon to believe Pi's narration of the Darwinian survival contest between the animals. Readers know the very survival of this group of animals and the way they devour each other is highly contrived. But we are carried along by Pi's meditations on the nature of humans and animals, and on his survival techniques. At this point we suspect the book is an allegory, yet on the surface we can still read it as a remarkable survival story.
Martel gradually increases the fantasy in the text as Pi physically weakens as his journey is prolonged. The episode when Richard Parker and Pi spend time on an island consisting of carnivorous seaweed is highly fantastical, or surreal. It calls to mind some of Gulliver's macabre encounters in Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels. The journey becomes now not one of real worlds, but of the mind and imagination. At one level, the reader can call into question Pi's sanity, and on another, Martel is revelling in his creation of imaginative worlds.
In the denouement, we have the final shattering of the mirrors Martel has craftily created. The reader has followed Pi's largely chronological journey to his salvation on the shores of Mexico. We have admired his ingenuity, stamina and resourcefulness. Yet there is a sense of betrayal in the last section of the text where it is revealed, through the investigation of the Japanese shipping company, that there were no animals on the boat, only humans. This means that Pi, as the sole survivor, has not only been a murderer but also a cannibal. In our re-visioning of him he becomes more desperate and more callous as a character. Indeed, he coolly remarks: ''It is simple and brutal: a person can get used to anything, even to killing.''
This revelation is a jolt because the character of Pi we had admired has been called into question. In this twist, Martel shows us the dangers of trusting a first-person narrator. Martel also calls upon the reader to re-read the text. We must go back in our heads to work out which animal was which person, and chillingly surmise that Richard Parker and Pi are one and the same. No longer is this a simple story of a boy's survival.
It is after the final twist that it is confirmed that Life of Pi is a complex allegory. Humans act in ''animal'' ways and we must ask ourselves what this means. If we return to the first section of the novel in Pondicherry, we realise that there is no easy answer to this, as animals and humans share characteristics, and yet are different. As Pi says: ''I learned that an animal is an animal, essentially and practically removed from us.'' The novel is a series of mirrors that sends us back and forth through the different narratives, reflecting multiple truths and asking us multiple questions. There are only fragments of answers.
By the end of the text, Pi's name takes on extra resonance. The mathematical number pi, with its infinity of decimal places, means that it cannot be pinpointed. Similarly, Pi is hard to pin down to any fixed truth; his own story is myriad infinite fictions.
Finally, as readers we hold up a mirror to ourselves. We recognise the ways in which we have read and the ways in which Martel has played with our faith in the story.
Dr Maria Joseph is an English/ESL teacher at Box Hill Senior Secondary College.