Life of Pi

Sometimes books are not at all about what they seem to be about. Sometimes a book about animals is actually about politics. Sometimes a book about war is actually about the trouble of bureaucracy. And sometimes a book about a boy shipwrecked on a lifeboat with a Bengal tiger has less to do with surviving at sea than about faith, religion and humanity.

The only setup I had for Life of Pi — thanks to my girlfriend — was that it was a beautiful story about an Indian zookeeper’s boy caught in a “faith triangle” between Hinduism, Islam and Christianity and his exploration of their relationship. I thought that would be it: an analysis of the three in story form, with all the awkward, funny and beautiful moments that are inevitable to the life of any human exploring the practice of faith.

So you can imagine I was caught a bit off guard when I got a quarter of the way through the book and realized that Pi Patel would be stranded on a lifeboat with a tiger for the majority of the story. And, even when I got comfortable with that, the setup of Pi’s growing up as a practitioner of three faiths seemed all but abandoned in favor of a Yet Another Shipwrecked Story.

As captivating as the story was (I highly recommend it for that alone), I was disappointed at the lack of religious exploration, what with it being a recurring topic for me these days. But I could hardly say it was a disappointing read, just not what I had expected.

And then, with a stroke of genius, Yann Martel closes his story with a quick almost-one-liner that ties up Life of Pi in the most beautiful of packages. I wouldn’t want to ruin it for you, of course. But I will say that you won’t be disappointed.

This is one of those rare books that can be enjoyed on many levels. Everyone will appreciate reading about animals and about a boy’s ability to survive at sea. And the bookworm philosopher will enjoy it for that and its subtle subtext.