Life of Pi

I finished Life of Pi several weeks ago and am just now getting around to responding to popular demand and posting my thoughts about it.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed the book and was glad I read it. The basic setup is that the main character, Pi, and his family are moving from India to Canada and are taking their zoo animals with them; Pi's father is a zookeeper. The ship they travel on sinks in the Pacific, and Pi is left on a lifeboat with zoo animals as his only companions. The book gets a lot of mileage out of the sheer novelty of this. It surprised me how many times it can be funny to see nautical terms and zoo animals in the same sentence, like, "That was a cramped space; between the broad back of the zebra and the sides of the buoyancy tanks that went all around the boat beneath the benches, there wasn't much room left for a hyena."

Martel also tries to get some comic mileage out of having Pi be (or claim to be) Christian, Hindu, and Muslim at the same time. This is occasionally, but only occasionally very funny, and unlike the zoo animals, it doesn't have any real relation to the plot itself. While having a hyena on a lifeboat actually influences the events that take place, having a Hindu aboard apparently does not.

My only complaint is about the ending, which was very disappointing, in that some of the magic of the rest of the book disappears.

Textual explication

Here is the document I mentioned last week, published for the first time ever, at your very own Crawdad Hole:

Textual explication of "The Lion" by Roald Dahl

Roald Dahl's "The Lion" is a short lyric poem in iambic pentameter couplets. The length of the poem, four lines longer than a sonnet, expresses Dahl's theme of overturning tradition, subverting the conventional, and escaping quotidian norms.

The poem is addressed to the reader, an unconventional device in adult literature but a perfectly acceptable one to the child reader. This is heavily ironic, since the child to whom the reader expects the poem to speak will be the type of reader most likely to be deeply disturbed by the grim and crushing end.

To overturn or subvert tradition, a writer must first establish the tradition which he or she expects to undermine, and this is glibly done in the modest, unthreatening first couplet. In fact, the conciseness and precision of expression are perfectly worthy of the 17th century's notion of wit. The idea expressed is not new, and is put simply in keeping with its import.

Repetition of the word "tender" in lines 2 and 4 is the first subversive element of the text, hardly noticeable upon a first reading yet influencing the entire mood of the poem. The reader is put in a vulnerable, innocent state of mind, aided as well by the conventional and unassuming couplet noted above.

Lines 5-9 amass culinary references, evoking [change of writer]what are most likely pleasant dining experiences in the mind of the impressionable young child, and setting up the reader to expect a pleasant ending, most likely ending with lion and speaker joining one another in pleasant repast. The fact that the lion refuses the first four scrumptious suggestions is no major impediment; four more suggestions await in lines 11-15. [change of writer] In these lines, though, the character of the inquiry changes. Less food items are proposed in a line, and eliciting information from the lion about its favorite meal becomes more difficult. Also at this point, the speaker is becoming nervous; there are the first direct hints of the shattering ending. Flattery like "lion dear," "lovely steak," and "entice" conjure a mental image of the speaker, in belated recognition, backing away from the lion.

[change of writer] The ominous change from present to past tense in line 15 comes as a bitter shock to the innocent reader. The backing away came too late; the trap is set. Line 14 is the last we hear from the child; it is significant that "rabbit" and "hare," two small, quiet, gentle animals, are offered as the lion's choice of cuisine: Dahl obviously associates the child with the rabbit.

In the final lines, the lion speaks, and we find that we have been subtly prepared for his pronouncement by the depth of imagery which has gone before. Tragic, yet, as all true tragedy, inevitable.

Azkaban

I've never been to a movie before where the audience clapped when the previews ended and it started playing. The audience was really into it. It was quite a pleasure to watch.

The main thing that struck me about the movie was that everything - both characters and cinematography (I hate people who use the word "cinematography," but it really seems to fit here, and I must admit it is pleasurable to join the masses in using the word without any qualifications to speak on the subject) had seemed to take a great leap in maturity. Each little witch or wizard who showed up was fascinatingly different. It reminded me of those 7/11 documentaries or whatever they're called (what are they called?), where they go back and interview the same people every seven years and show what's happened to them. I was annoyed with how stick-thin Hermione was. The kids weren't wearing their school uniforms as much, more of a eurogrunge attire, and some of the scenes were altered in color to produce an artistic effect. It wasn't just the kids who had changed but the whole aesthetic of the movies. I would have to watch the previous ones again, but it seemed to me like there was much more focus on the landscape, the changing seasons. There were visual comments about time everywhere you looked. Of course it's an important element of the plot, but it goes beyond that. Draco Malfoy and the goons had drastically reduced roles; Harry was usually around adults doing very serious things. Hogwarts seemed different from the previous movies. I find myself less worried about all the magic and wizardry that the characters must master, and more worried about the states of their souls as they start becoming adults.

Light reading?

I love it, Snap - "nothing worth mentioning" and then you calmly publish 46 fascinating critiques, including comparisons to authors' other works as well as any relevant writings on the same subjects. Clearly the Dragon is in her element here. I want to hear more about Confessions of a Slacker Mom. Does it lead to greater understanding of the transmogrified mom? What makes her a "slacker"?

Valuable Manuscript Unearthed

As I was perusing the writings of Dahl this morning, I discovered a historic document folded within its pages. It appeared to be a textual explication of one of the great one's poems, coauthored by four critics in serial fashion on a sheet of notebook paper. Because of its uniqueness and enlightening content, I considered publishing it on the blog, but I thought it might be more meaningful to you if you read the poem first. In deference to copyright laws, I will not print the poem here, but I will give you a week to purchase or check out Roald Dahl's "The Lion" (from Dirty Beasts), after which I will post the never-before-published explication for your exclusive viewing. It appears no one (except nerzhin) is reading anything worth mentioning these days, so I trust you can find time to skim this classic, pungent 18-liner. Look forward to Monday, June 7 for the unveiling of the manuscript!

More reading

I've just started Life of Pi by Yann Martel, which so far I'm finding very enjoyable, very fun to read, but I suppose it remains to be seen if it has staying power. I most recently finished Wole Soyinka's Brother Jero plays, which were short and funny but not nearly as good as Death and the King's Horseman which I read for an African Lit class and which made me want to read more of Soyinka.

Other than that I've been slogging through Boyce and DiPrima's Elementary Differential Equations. Though this is a classic text, and one that I'm more interested in than 99 percent of the population, I still must admit that it is somewhat less entertaining than the average novel.

What I'm reading

Lemony had the brilliant idea of showing what each of us is reading over in the sidebar. Unfortunately I haven't figured out how to make this updateable by each of us, but in the meantime maybe we could each just post it normally.

Right now I'm rereading Ulysses, not with much hope of ever finishing, but it's a blast. I think the book is so intimidating we don't realize how funny it is. Reading that has made me sort of revisit A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man, which is not very funny and much less enjoyable. Books I have recently started and failed to finish are Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee and Zorba the Greek. Also, this morning I reread Roald Dahl's The Giraffe, the Pelly, and Me, which I highly recommend. It is a jewel. RD said short illustrated books for children were the hardest genre of all to write. He wrote 314 pages of discarded versions before coming up with the final 34.5 typewritten pages. So those exquisite surprises that keep the corners of your mouth quivering and your ribs throbbing in pain throughout the story were hard-won by the author. Make sure you read this with someone by your side. There are few worse things than reading The Giraffe, the Pelly, and Me and having no one to share it with.

Malls

Last weekend I was taken to the Frisco Mall, a building of staggering size that you can see from miles away. Driving in under the shadow of the vast logo-decorated wall, I felt the stomach-turning sense of insignificance that often attacks me as a consumer.

Everything was bright, shiny, and new, not the woebegone mallscape that has been lamented in recent press coverage. It made me think of other architectural forms that are meant to belittle the occupants: cathedrals, for example.

Does a gigantic mall serve a similar purpose? To iron out our inconsistencies and make us one body? Do we like that feeling?

Here is another article about malls, and also about pedestrian issues, that I found interesting. Neither of these articles is particularly relevant to my cathedral comparison, but I offer them to anyone who feels intrigued by the topic.

Walking man

As an advocate of walking rather than driving (influenced, of course, by the mighty Tree of Valinor) I found this article on alternet to be very refreshing and interesting. I like especially the closing thought, that the way to persuade people to walk is not through guilt trips about the environment but by simply showing them how fun and rewarding it can be.

On March 18, Tree wrote in this space (see the archives) about a research project involving how far people are from their cars at any given time. I wonder if, for some of us, the further we are from a car the happier we are.

I have almost resolved not to own a car when I move to Boulder in August. Can I stick to my morals, or will I be sucked into the convenience and Americanism of the internal combustion engine?

It was a review of The War for Righteousness, so unfortunately, finding the evidence would involve reading the book. Which I probably won't ever do. It just seemed interesting. You're probably right, it's a bunch of baloney.

I wouldn't rank this one in my top ten birthdays, but some sobriety is appropriate, since anyone who's 27 has outlived the poet Keats.

Christian books

For those of you who have connections in the Christian book publishing industry, I thought you might enjoy this proposed book title that I stole from Real Live Preacher:

What Would Jabez Do If He Was Left Behind With Someone Whose Only Purpose in Life Was to Force-Feed Him Chicken Soup?

Hope you enjoy.

war talk

There's a book review in the May Atlantic Monthly, talking about how those intellectuals and religious leaders who sold World War I as a messianic crusade, "the war to end all wars," were the liberals and the progressive Christian leaders, whereas those who opposed the war were the conservatives and fundamentalists.

And now, as everyone knows, we have W saying things like this: "Freedom is the Almighty's gift to every man and woman in this world. And as the greatest power on the face of the Earth, we have an obligation to help the spread of freedom."

I am no pacifist, but the weird apparent reversal of roles that this book review suggests makes me scratch my head.

Maybe I shouldn't muddy up the Crawdad Hole with silly war talk. I just thought this was interesting and noteworthy.

spring dragons

Thank you for the birthday sentiment, Lemony. It should be noted that Snap Dragon and I share a birthday, along with many other excellent qualities...

Who could be cooler than Lemony, though, who is part of a dragon in a parade! She exceeds the very gamut of coolness.

Yes, indeed:

Tetherow Way
Terrebonne Town
Smith Rocks rise in windy skies...

For those unfamiliar with central Oregon, Smith Rock is located outside the hamlet of Terrebonne, which isn't even registered on epodunk.com. And there's a song about it by an obscure group from Eugene, Spiritfarm, which also seems to lack a web presence.

All this to say, I'm sure there are avalanches of Boulder songs that can be heard in the bars and coffeehouses of that municipality on open mic nights.

Boulder song challenge

I think the elven one, having lived there, should know if there is a Boulder song. If not, can we commission an original ode? Does academic writing dull the ode instinct, Arwen?

If there's a song for Terrebonne, Oregon, there has to be one for Boulder. Maybe not a famous one...