Ahh, fresh powder. The conditions on the mountain were perfect tonight- with the exception of a few rogue chunks of ice that threatened to chew up my newly-waxed board, it was thick, fresh powder on all slopes. Niice. They had the snow guns blowing, so we all (me, DJ, Stal) ended up buying goggles- I hate wearing them, but the spray was blinding and it stung the face. The Gordinis (read: cheapest goggles in the ski shop) saved us considerable discomfort. I also purchased that bangin’ new green hat you see in the photo, although I will not divulge how much I paid for it. My head was really cold, so it was worth it.
OK…so here’s what I’ve been mulling for the past few days. My thoughts on Life of Pi.
WARNING: If you HAVE NOT read this book and plan to, please don’t read any further, because it will spoil a lot of things for you, and you really need to read this one with an open mind. This isn’t a book report, it’s just a few thoughts I’ve compiled.
Right off the bat I will say that was enchanted by this book. I loved how different it was, and how it made me think about it for days afterward. Even if I hate a book or film, I will give proper credit if it holds my mind long after I’ve turned to other things (example: A Clockwork Orange).
I understand now the comments and emails from you guys- when I finished the book I tried to find someone else who’d read it to talk to, but no one had. It’s the ending. It’s the kicker. It’s the choice we have to make. Do we go with cold hard reason, or do we have faith, do we choose to believe the wonder of the story?
Did anyone else notice the similarity between Pi and the island and Ransom and Malacandra in Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis? The wonder and bewilderment Pi feels in an alien environment, the delicate balance of life he observes, and the rich, vibrant descriptions reminded me very much of Ransom’s reactions. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was intentional, given the religious undertones of the book- Martel has probably read some Lewis in his day. (ps- if you haven’t read the Space Trilogy by Lewis, turn off your computer and get thee to the nearest bookshoppe)
But why did I like the book when so many people don’t? I can’t say for sure, but there are a few things that stick out. The beautiful writing, for one. I fancy that some day I will write a novel, but I could never put such flowing, wonderful words to paper. Everything I could conceptualize seems clunky and unrefined in comparison. The second reason would be the absolute originality of the novel as a whole- what a weird story! How refreshing!
And third (and most important?) would be that while I oftentimes have trouble finding faith in my own life, be it faith in God or faith in myself and my abilities, I never lost faith in the boy and his tiger. I felt an inkling of doubt, sure, but I choose the animal story because I want to believe it.
I choose animals; I choose wonder.
Besides, those were so meerkat bones.