Life of Pi by Yann Martel won the Mann Booker Prize in 2002. Despite the acclaim it has received, it seems to be an innately “love it or hate it” book. The story is broken up into three parts, a technique which has been simultaneously lauded as a highly effective literary device and also perceived as an elitist method of forcing its points onto the reader in a condescending fashion.
Still, despite the gripes that both story line and moral are force fed to the reader, many have been smitten by the tale told in Life of Pi. The novel covers an extensive breadth of ground, from commonplace to esoteric. Add to this scope of ideas and ideals a riveting storyline and a character with whom readers can easily identify, and the allure of Life of Pi becomes very clear. Martel takes Life of Pi one step further, however, adding a distinctive flavor to the tale with breathtaking prose. When Martel describes a storm at sea, the reader feels as if they are immersed in the raging salt water frenzy of the squall themselves. When Pi’s father feels the need to teach his children about the predatory instincts of carnivorous animals, the reader himself is left trembling at the blind power of natural instinct. This powerful prose and distinctive voice makes Life of Pi engaging even when the subject and content at hand are not overwhelmingly thrilling.
The novel begins as a quiet rumination on the life an Indian boy growing up in a zoo that is run by his father, who is at once in touch with nature and enamored with progress. Equal parts theology, sociology, and zoology are interwoven in the first third of the book. Pi, who develops his peculiar name as a result of the sort of childhood taunting readers will be all too familiar with, is a peaceful boy with penchant for drawing seemingly incompatible religions to him. Part 1 of the book serves to lay the foundations for Pi’s coming of age; it documents his trials and tribulations amongst his family, peers, and society at large, with a specific focus on his interactions with various religious leaders.
In Part 2 the story later segue ways into the tale of Pi as a ship wrecked castaway. It transitions from a peaceful tale of a child learning the ways of the world, into a dramatic confrontation between a young man and a plethora of natural forces. After a tragedy befalls the ship Pi’s family has boarded en route to Canada following an insurrection in India, Pi is abruptly forced to put the knowledge he has gleaned from his life in India to the test in a Darwinian battle of survival of the fittest. Stranded on a raft with several specimens of the animal kingdom that managed to survive the sinking of the ship, Pi faces not only the toils of a life stranded at sea with few resources, but the daunting task of coexisting with a natural born predator.
Pi weathers tumultuous storms and terrifying altercations during his journey, but also experiences moments of beauty so well written that the reader can envision them clearly in the eye of their mind. These moments serve to balance the drama and tragedies that befall him in the same way that joy balances sorrow in everyone’s life.
The final portion of Life of Pi is comprised of the retelling of his tale to authorities seeking to know what befell the ill-fated ship that Pi and his family were aboard. He offers up two tales to the men who come to question him: one fantastical and one “without animals.” Which one the authorities, and the reader, choose to believe serves as the moral of the story.
Although there are certainly moments when it feels as though the reader’s hand is being held and they are being led to an ultimate conclusion, Life of Pi is by no means an “obvious” novel. There are nuances in its premise, ideals, and prose that are highly complex and, in fact, warrant a second reading. It is definitely a work of both beauty and terror and a riveting read full of insight and knowledge to be gleaned by anyone willing to open their eyes to it.
