PRESENTATION OUTLINE
theme: human the animal
- domesticated v. wild
- civilized v. savage
- human v. animal
"The very definition of an animal. That's all you are."
"And what are you?"
"A human being, I'll have you know."
"What boastful pride."
"It's the plain truth."
"So, you would throw the first stone, would you?" (247)
The first time I went to an Indian restaurant in
Canada I used my fingers. The waiter looked at
me critically and said, “Fresh off the boat, are
you?” I blanched. My fingers, which a second
before had been taste buds savouring the food a
little ahead of my mouth, became dirty under
his gaze. They froze like criminals caught in
the act. I didn’t dare lick them. I wiped them
guiltily on my napkin. He had no idea how
deeply those words wounded me. They were
like nails being driven into my flesh. I picked
up the knife and fork. I had hardly ever used
such instruments. My hands trembled. My
sambar lost its taste. (7)
I learned the lesson that an
animal is an animal, essentially
and practically removed from
us, twice: once with Father and
once with Richard Parker. (31)
theme in reverse: animal the human
To see so many beings bending down at the same time reminded me of prayer time in a mosque. (266)
With just one glance I discovered that the sea is
a city. Just below me, all around, unsuspected
by me, were highways, boulevards, streets and
roundabouts bustling with submarine traffic. In
water that was dense, glassy and flecked by
millions of lit-up specks of plankton, fish like
trucks and buses and cars and bicycles and
pedestrians were madly racing about, no doubt
honking and hollering at each other. (175)
Tears flowing down my cheeks, I egged myself
on until I heard a cracking sound and I no
longer felt any life fighting in my hands. I
pulled back the folds of the blanket. The flying
fish was dead. It was split open and bloody on
one side of its head, at the level of the gills.
I wept heartily over this poor little deceased
soul. It was the first sentient being I had ever
killed. I was now a killer. (183)
You may be astonished that in such a short period
of time I could go from weeping over the muffled
killing of a flying fish to gleefully bludgeoning to
death a dorado. I could explain it by arguing that
profiting from a pitiful flying fish’s navigational
mistake made me shy and sorrowful, while the
excitement of actively capturing a great dorado
made me sanguinary and self-assured. But in point
of fact the explanation lies elsewhere. It is simple
and brutal: a person can get used to anything, even
to killing. (185)
I stuck fingers into eyes, jammed hands into
gills, crushed soft stomachs with knees, bit
tails with my teeth—I did whatever was
necessary to hold a fish down until I could
reach for the hatchet and chop its head off.
With time and experience I became a better
hunter. I grew bolder and more agile. I
developed an instinct, a feel, for what to do.
(195)
Lord, to think that I’m a strict
vegetarian. To think that when I was a
child I always shuddered when I
snapped open a banana because it
sounded to me like the breaking of an
animal’s neck. I descended to a level of
savagery I never imagined possible.
(197)
It came as an unmistakable indication to me of how low I had sunk the day I noticed, with a pinching of the heart, that I ate like an animal, that this noisy, frantic, unchewing, wolfing-down of mine was exactly the way Richard Parker ate. (225)
"So the Taiwanese sailor is the zebra, his mother is the orang-utan, the cook is...the hyena--which means he's the tiger!" (311)
foreshadowing of pi/richard parker relationship
A case is mentioned in the literature of a stoat and a
rat living in a companion relationship, while other
rats presented to the stoat were devoured by it in
the typical way of stoats.
We had our own case of the freak suspension of the
predator-prey relationship. We had a mouse that
lived for several weeks with the vipers. While other
mice dropped in the terrarium disappeared within
two days, this little brown Methuselah built itself a
nest, stored the grains we gave it in various
hideaways and scampered about in plain sight of
the snakes. (85)
But I don't want to take too much credit for what I managed to do with Richard Parker. My good fortune, he fortune that saved my life, was that he was not only a young adult but a pliable young adult, an omega animal. (273)
Like Richard Parker, Pi is also an omega animal, reaching back to his early school days.
My Roman soldier stood in the schoolyard one morning when I was twelve. I had just arrived. He saw me and a flash of evil genius lit up his dull mind. He raised his arm, pointed at me and shouted, "It's Pissing Patel!"
In a second everyone was laughing. It fell away as we filed into the class. I walked in last, wearing my crown of thorns. (20)
He caught a turtle. He gave me its blood. He butchered it and lay its best parts for me on the middle bench. I ate. (310)
The living rest of the turtle I lifted and dropped into Richard Parker's territory....I watched sullenly as he loudly appreciated my gift and made a joyous mess of himself. (202)
I will tell you a secret: a part of me was glad about
Richard Parker. A part of me did not want Richard
Parker to die at all, because if he died I would be left
alone with despair, a foe even more formidable than a
tiger. If I still had the will to live, it was thanks to Richard
Parker. He kept me from thinking too much about my
family and my tragic circumstances. He pushed me to go
on living. I hated him for it, yet at the same time I was
grateful. I am grateful. It’s the plain truth: without
Richard Parker, I wouldn’t be alive today to tell you my
story. (164)
"Truly I do. I love you, Richard Parker. If I didn't have you now, I don't know what I would do." (236)
Richard Parker, thank you. Thank you for saving my life. (286)
I was weeping because Richard Parker had left me so unceremoniously. (285)
As soon as Pi touches land he knows the beast within must disappear, and he cringes to see it go.
Mr. Okamoto: "We'll be careful when we drive away. We don't want to run into Richard Parker."
Pi Patel: "Don't worry, you won't. He's hiding somewhere you'll never find him." (317)
I will confess that I caught one of his arms with the gaff and used his flesh as bait. I will further confess, driven by the extremity of my need and the madness to which it pushed me, I ate some of his flesh. I mean small pieces, little strips that I meant for the gaff's hook that, when dried by the sun, looked like ordinary animal flesh. They slipped into my mouth nearly unnoticed. You must understand, my suffering was unremitting and he was already dead. I stopped as soon as I caught a fish.
I pray for his soul every day. (256)
His heart was a struggle--all those tubes that connected it. I managed to get it out. It tasted delicious, far better than turtle. I ate his liver. I cut off great pieces of his flesh.
"He was such an evil man. Worse still, he met evil in me--selfishness, anger, ruthlessness. I must live with that." (311)
"You've killed two men?"
"No. A man and a woman."
"At the same time?"
"No. The man first, the woman second."
"You monster! I bet you thought it was great fun. You must have found their cries and their struggles quite entertaining."
"Not really."
"Were they good?"
"Were they good?"
"Yes. Don't be so obtuse. Did they taste good?"
"No, they didn't taste good." (246-7)
"He had no expression on his face, neither of despair nor of anger, neither of fear nor of pain. He gave up. He let himself be killed, though it was still a struggle. He knew he had gone too far, even by his bestial standards. He had gone too far and now he didn't want to go on living any more." (310)
“…‘All religions are true.’ I just
want to love God,” I blurted
out, and looked down, red in
the face. (69)
What do you make of Pi's religious beliefs and practices?
What happened to the Tsimtsum?
Consider the appearance of the Frenchman in Pi's blind stupor, and Pi's confession to consuming bits of his flesh.
Why do you think Pi let the two versions of his story overlap?
What do you make of the "carnivorous" (281) yet "Gandhian" (270) island?
If you believe Pi invented it, why do you think he created such an unbelievable place?
"Isn't telling about something--using words, English or Japanese--already something of an invention? Isn't just looking upon this world already something of an invention?" (302)
What is the line between fiction and non-fiction? Does human perception make reality impossible to define?
What does the cook's emotional response to cannibalizing the sailor and Pi's mother say about the nature of cannibalism?
What you think of the cook's cannibalism in juxtaposition with Pi's? Is one more heinous than the other?
Untitled Slide
- Martel, Yann. Life of Pi. New York: Harcourt, 2001. Print.