I read Life of Pi yesterday. It was captivating. After all, I do enjoy reading about myself, don’t you? The last few pages sounded like the last four years of my life. The Rest of the Story sounded like all the rest of my life, save for a couple of details (I am all the characters).
Like Pi, I am the tiger, the hyena, the ship’s cook and the creator of my own mythology. I am the inquisitor, the carnivorous algae and the mother who would die for her offspring. I’m the irresponsible father who allowed his teenage son to help supervise this most dangerous of all endeavors.
Like everyone, I am Slave to my Beliefs. though I must insist that I have a higher regard for the esteem of self honesty however illusive, than to the accuracy of an ever-changing Group Myth. This innately creative facet of human behavior was made clear in the final chapter as Pi was being interviewed by representatoves of the sinking of the ship, the result of which was the prospect of an ever-changing reality, not only in Pi’s future but in his past.
Also displayed in this chapter of varying realities was the united expression of shared belief as dominate any kind of group activity and which sought to exert control over this brave teen. These skeptical interviewers sought facts, not stories. Had Pi been interviewed by a Hollywood writer rather than these insurance motivated fact finders, this story might have gone differently………..or “Not”.
And I, like Pi, in order to getalong with the singalong, often hear myself reducing my music to the basic chord structure in an attempt to honor not only myself but my groups and the individuals within.
After all we are all in this boat together, aren’t we? (Sorry, that just slipped out.)