A teenage boy adrift in a lifeboat for 227 days with a tiger. Of course it sounds implausible, but as we read Pi’s story it’s very hard not to be persuaded.
However two episodes towards the end of the novel test our willingness to suspend our disbelief. Firstly the conversation with the blind Frenchman — whom Pi encounters on another boat in the middle of the ocean — and secondly the island populated by meerkats.
Yann Martel has said of these episodes that ‘I wanted to push the reader till he was forced to make some leap of faith.’ What did you make of these two plot developments? Did you make the leap of faith?
Gieneke from Holland
said:posted 21 August 09
Dear fellow readers,
Yes, I made this leap of faith! I read the book prior to reading the readalong tips and am happy about that, not yet being influenced by them. I read it believing the story like I believed in fairy tales when I was young. I even somehow managed to include the blind Frenchman and the island with the meerkats (if you’ve never seen it or heard of it doesn’t mean it’s not possible!) I smilingly think that I still believe in fairy tales and good for me! …… okay okay I’ll read the book again and go for the deeper levels and meanings …..!
Still, Pi and his story have stirred something within that feels genuine and that doesn’t bother about “true” but cares about “truth”.
Best wishes,
Gieneke
Tim
said:posted 21 August 09
I didn’t doubt any of the book until the end when there is the other story, its odd because in hindsight i should have but i just didn’t.
And my doubt at the end did not last long as i don’t believe the other story
Maria do Céu Costa
said:posted 22 August 09
I almost always had the sense of true happenings … as Pi expressed his thoughts, described the “scenes” around, or told his fantastic stories. Despite that dialogue between the blind Frenchman and Pi over the “banana story”… I looked forward to accompanying Pi and Richard Parker, particularly because Pi had recovered his eyesight!
I also loved Pi’s exploring tours around the island(…) and his thoughts about the meerkats:” watching so many creatures bending at the same time reminded me of the prayer hour in a mosque.”
I regretted the informal departure/farewell of Richard Parker… Such farewell “still hurts me today”, I second Pi. But we all wish both Richard Parker and Pi much peace for good!
Korky
said:posted 23 August 09
What I thought of those two plot developments was “hurrah!” somethings actually happening… I was disappointed that Pi (or the author) didn’t make more of a big deal about these incredible and so out of the ordinary events in comparison to months of just surviving.
Susan
said:posted 30 August 09
Yet again, in this section, Martel challenges our faith by asking us to believe in 2 stories ( the Frenchman and the Island) that defy logic. Essential to religion is believing in stories that seem “unbelievable”- i.e.biblical stories- Jonah and the Whale, Noah’s ark, Moses parting the sea, etc……. I think Martel is challenging or testing our faith ( through the art of storytelling) at a different level. If we believe that Richard Parker, the tiger, exists, then we can move onto the next test ( or leap of faith, as Martel says). How far is the reader willing to go? I enjoyed the journey (story) so much, I made the leap of faith!!
Alex
said:posted 3 April 11
This is one of the most bizarrely out-of-place and darkest sections of the book. On the surface, of course, it is hallucinations from malnutrition and exposure. There are two images: the Frenchman and the island. The Frenchman is very obviously conflated with the murderous cook and his appearance follows from Richard Parker suddenly gaining the power to talk. Pi’s unconscious, with the real characters, has surfaced fully as he is passed out. Pi kills the animalian part of his psychology at this moment, but at the same time understands that that animal is no tiger but an integral part of being a human and thus deserves to be represented by one.
I read the island as a representation of Pi’s own body/mind – floating on the ocean, by necessity a self-sufficient ecosystem, apt to use animals (plants) as symbols. Like Pi, it lures fish for food. The acid pools are related to Pi’s digestive system. The implication is that he is in danger of digesting himself due to malnutrition. The meerkats may be circulatory, or neuronic – they are certainly circadian.
I read a more likely explanation with the island as representative of human society, with the self-similar meerkats copying each other so closely and eating food they did not kill themselves. But once they set foot outside into the cruel natural world and its acidic pools they stand no chance.
I can’t tell the significance of the human teeth other than a memento mori and a parody of the life-giving stone of a fruit. I also linked the loss of teeth not only to a common dream trope but also to the process of growing up, insofar as the teeth are stolen and turn up in a fairytale land.
The island seems inspired by the folkloric man-eating trees of Madagascar, similarly to the sailing lore that inspired Richard Parker’s name.
So during his hallucination Pi is instantiating the psychological drama being played out in his own head. There are Freudian elements related to the process of growing up (since this is a Bildungsroman): comprehending the animalian id as a human trait, the swelling banana, and the lost teeth. There is an assessment of the social structure of human society and its fragile, illusory nature. There are constant reflections of solitude and self-sufficiency – island, leather of one boot.
The swelling banana is an important image. It relates to Pi’s mother the orang-utan on her floating island of bananas (whence Oedipal). Note that the Frenchman/cook is referred to as a brother and arrives in a similar way. The Freudian banana conflates sexual and hunger drives, and it relates to the same acceptance of the way the mother was killed by the cook, who represents what can be analysed as a sexual drive.
It is Pi’s delusional self-analysis and is an acute version of the feelings which have plagued him throughout the book. It represents a psychological trauma that threatens to surface and send him mad, and I would certainly say that this is the place where he learns the necessity of faith as a defence mechanism. Ironically his blindness lifts as he chooses not to focus on the observational reality of events.
Alex
said:posted 3 April 11
Sorry for the length, but I find this section very compelling and not very closely analysed anywhere on the Internet.
Paul from USA
said:posted 4 May 12
I included an excerpt from an oral presentation i prepared for my English class where we read this book. Its a bit wordy because its meant to be given orally but it summarizes my feelings of this portion of the book. Spoilers ahead
In the novel the account of the “island”, or floating mass of algae, is a highly representative symbol of the loss of innocence and cannibalism in the second story. In the second story Pi’s cannibalism of the cook is symbolical of the lush abundance of the island. In Pi’s first account the island is described as “a green to get drunk on” pg 324, something so beautiful to someone so drawn out and starved. The island itself was sustenance When Pi kills the cook he describes him as “delicious, far better than turtle” pg 391, Pi “cut off great pieces of his flesh… ate his liver”. Pi gorges himself on the cook in the same was as Richard parker engorged himself on the meerkats of the island, “He killed beyond his need. He killed meerkats that he did not eat… his pent-up hunting instinct was lashing out with a vengeance” pg 339. This killing beyond need is a direct parallel to Pi’s cannibalism of the cook. Directly following Pi’s departure from the island he finishes the story with the short note contained in chapter 93. “The rest of this story is nothing but grief, ache and endurance…It was natural that bereft and desperate as I was, in the throes of unremitting suffering, I should turn to God.” pg 358 This clolsing statement is a direct parallel to the closing statement to Pi’s second story, where Pi ends with “selfishness, anger, ruthlessness… Solitude began. I turned to God. I survived.” pg 391. The account of the island and the excess found there is an allegorical account of Pi’s cannibalism as well, and the teeth found upon the island represent the cook, and the dark secret the island holds in Pi’s mind, that it truly was the turning point of his story where all innocence was lost and there was no turning back. On the “island”, or at the point of feasting on the cook, Pi was subhuman, and truly as far from society as he would ever be, breaking one of the most strongly enforced taboos of all time, cannibalism.
TLDR: The island is a metaphor for Pi eating the cook in the second story, ew right?
Still not super sure about the french guy
Paul from USA
said:posted 4 May 12
P.S. I strongly believe Pi’s second account, the one with no animals, is the true factual account of his journey, but Yann Martel wants to emphasize that if one takes a leap of faith and accepts “the better story” rather than the “dry yeastless factuality” one can vastly improve their own life.