Sunday, February 7, 2010



I blame the fairy tales.

You would too, if you were me. I mean, it's SO OBVIOUSLY their fault. I even know which fairy tale (or fairy tale strain) to blame: Type 156, which, according to Aarne and Thompson, classic fairy tale classifiers of ages past, are "Tales...in which a man pulls a thorn from a lion's paw, thus gaining the beast's eternal gratitude and loyalty." (http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/folktexts.html)

Basically, as I was reading Life of Pi I, proabably in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the stress that the suspense of Pi being thrown from a ship and landing in a boat with a bunch of carnivorous wild things in it had caused me, tried to turn Life of Pi into a fairy tale of type 156, where the tiger was SO GRATEFUL to the potentially edible child that he let him live and became more of a fluffy kitten then a hungry predator. It wasn't so farfetched, was it? I mean... I'm thinking that this book is fiction. So the author could do whatever the heck he wanted with this Indian kid. And I, personally, am totally into those kinds of stories where suspense is short-lived and happy endings are right around the corner. And Pi DID save Richard Parker from almost certain death by throwing him that life jacket, right? That's sort of like pulling a thorn out of a lions paw. And yes, Pi did so without realizing that this would almost surely make him "the next goat" (Martel, 124), and once he realized this he wasn't quite so keen to be with the tiger, but he helped regardless. It still counts. Anyhow, intentions don't seem to be very important in fairy tales... in "The Dog and the Corpse, " a Russian tale, a faithful dog holds off a corpse that tries to attack it's owner, but the owner, instead of staying to help, runs home, leaving the dog by itself with the corpse. The dog eventually comes home but is incredibly hostile to the owner, "disgusted at [him] for not helping" (Voices from the Past, pg 39). Then the owner kills the dog. See what I mean? The dog protected the owner with good intentions and ends up dead. RIDICULOUS. Therefore Pi not really having his heart in saving Richard Parker all the way through to the end shouldn't matter at all.

In "The Dog and the Corpse," the dog protected his owner from the corpse even though he was scared.
http://images8.cafepress.com/product/223010298v1_225x225_Front.jpg

And never mind about how hungry I knew the tiger was going to be. In "Adrocles and the Lion", the lion stays with Androcles for like 7 days without food. Richard Parker, in my mind, was no different.

Androcles pulling the thorn out.
http://jayaandtoshi.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/1915_3.jpg
Was I disappointed with how events actually turned out? Not really. Except for when Orange Juice, her "defence [lacking] precision and coherence" (martel, 164) was eaten by the hyena. That was almost unbearable. What I'm referring to, I guess, was the relationship that developed between Pi and the Tiger. It didn't disappoint. That's saying a lot, let me tell you. You know me: impossible happy endings are my calling. But this WAS an impossible ending, in a it's own way. I mean... it wasn't as fantastical as the Richard Parker becoming Pi's BFF's and acting as best man at his wedding, or whatever. But when I think about it... Martel found a way for both Pi and Richard Parker to survive together, side by side, in a very realistic (if fantastical) way. You know when someone tells you a scary story, and the plot itself isn't anything incredible but later, you can't get over the fact that, even if it was just a story, it COULD have really happened? That's what reading this book is like for me. I know it's fake. But over and over again, I find myself getting caught up in the detail in which Martel describes the various ways in which Pi works to stay alive.

The fairy tale thoughts didn't cme out of nowhere. You may have noticed I have branched out from the Disney strain of princess tales to a wider array of European folk tales. This thanks to a tremendous class I'm taking this semester called (you guessed it) European Folk Tales. Now, in accordance with this sort of... motif, shall I say? I'm going to look for the lesson Martel has to teach us, or at least the lesson I'm getting out of this story thus far. Obviously there's more then one, as there are in fairy tales. Even Perraults version fo Cinderella has two, explicitly named at the end:
Moral: Beauty in a woman is a rare treasure that will always be admired. Graciousness, however, is priceless and of even greater value. This is what Cinderella's godmother gave to her when she taught her to behave like a queen. Young women, in the winning of a heart, graciousness is more important than a beautiful hairdo. It is a true gift of the fairies. Without it nothing is possible; with it, one can do anything.
Another moral: Without doubt it is a great advantage to have intelligence, courage, good breeding, and common sense. These, and similar talents come only from heaven, and it is good to have them. However, even these may fail to bring you success, without the blessing of a godfather or a godmother.
The lesson I'm getting so far from Life of Pi has a lot to do with faith. Not just religious faith, but faith in tomorrow. And I'm not talking Annie, forever optimism, "The sun will come out tomorrow"."Be daunted, but do not be defeated" (Martel, 211) said the manual. Pi himself said he needed to "stop hoping so much that a shop would rescue him" (212), that his "suffering did not fit anywhere" (223). Yes, he was daunted. He had suffering. He was hungry and thirsty sometimes, he had burns from the sea, his family was probably dead, and so on. But he also had this will to survive, this glimmer that if he lived, something better was waiting. Not ridiculous optimism. Faith. Faith in life.


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