Tuesday 8 October 2013

The Life of Pi


Ang Lee 2013

Here are a few questions.
When surviving on the sea seems to be hopeless Pi offers himself to God,  as if saying   ‘your will be done’   and does so not in despair but almost in exaltation.    What does this mean to you?
Pi wants the tiger, Richard Parker, to be his friend, and on the life-boat he treats him with deep respect.  When Richard Parker leaves him forever Pi mourns.    What does that say to you about Pi?
At the end of the film Pi tells another story, the one the Japanese officials prefer.    He asks the author – and of course us - which we prefer.    What is your preference?
Some stories are true, factually.  Some stories are truthful, they carry meanings that can be trusted even if they are not factual.   We call some of these stories myths, and some we call parables.   Could the Life of Pi be a parable?  And if so what truthfulness does it convey?

If the second story is the factual truth how do you think it relates to the first story?

Do you have an inner Richard Parker?   If so, how do you feel about him?  Or her?

The author is told that Pi’s story will ‘make him believe in God’.  
What does that mean to you, having seen the film?
And here are a few thoughts – and more questions.
Ang Lee’s film ‘The Life of Pi’,  based on Yann Martel's Booker Prize-winning novel,  is first and foremost a spiritual journey, both  for its title character, and for his witness.   The witness, Raph Spall,  is the author who has sought out the older Pi , having been told that his story ‘will make him believe in God’.  
We soon discover that no one religion can contain the young Pi’s belief, as he learns to practice not only his native Hinduism, but also Christianity and Islam.  In a passage from the book, not included in the film,  Pi and his family are promenading along the Ponticherry sea front when they are greeted by the Hindu Guru, the Catholic Priest and the Muslim Imam, each of whom want to praise Pi for his faithfulness, but they find them selves in noisy conflict over which faith has Pi’s true allegiance. His father brings this rather unholy row to an end by exclaiming that ‘Pi only wants to love God!”
To love something means to put our faith in it.  I choose the word faith rather than belief because beliefs can be intellectual, propositional and dogmatic, whereas faith is more often visceral, emotional and adaptive.  
So how could Pi’s subsequent story of shipwreck and survival make us love and  put our faith in God?
At the end of the film we are presented with an alternative story, one that may sound much more likely than the tale of the boy and the tiger,  and asked ‘which do we prefer.’  Not believe, but prefer.
Do we simply accept that life is arbitrary, violent and ultimately hopeless,  as the second story suggests, with its elements of murder and cannibalism?    Or do we look for something other?
In the film The Mission Father Gabriel says  ‘if might is right then there is no room for God in our world’.   He is speaking in the light of God as mediated by Jesus, who showed us the vulnerable and sacrificial face of God, the face of love.   But at the end of the film we are confronted by the Papal Nuncio, played by Ray MacAnally, the man who has sanctioned violence, but who seems to be saying that, sadly, tragically, violence is sometimes unavoidable, and when it is truly unavoidable we must accept responsibility for it, and move on.  Never for a moment should we pretend that it is God’s preferred way, but understand that it is a consequence of our own sinfulness.   We must not consider it as normal, and must never get addicted to it.   Faith is not about fantasy, but we must come to terms with reality, and still keep on loving.   Is this what Pi’s journey is about?
 Why does Pi want the tiger, Richard Parker, to be his friend?    Could it be because he recognizes the instinctive reactions of the tiger, admires his strength, and recognizes them as part of his own self, maybe his id?     In the second story that Pi tells of his ordeal he does  indeed imitate the actions of the tiger.    He does not condemn himself for doing so, but when the ‘inner tiger’ is no longer needed for Pi’s survival he slinks back into the jungle and does not look back.   So maybe Pi recognized the necessity for the use of power, when it is needed, and only when it is needed.    Then we have to move on, and not ‘worship’ the beast.
Earlier, when Pi seems overwhelmed by the struggle to survive he offers himself to God, as if saying   your will  be done’. Is he echoing Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the Cross,  believing that God is love, and so God’s will may often be mysterious, but it is never malignant.  It is as if he is saying ‘I have done everything I can, now it is over to you God, and I will accept whatever that means.’
So do we prefer the story that sounds ‘too good to be true’,                                                                     or the story that sounds ‘too true to be good?'   
Can we accept both, while preferring, or putting our faith in, one?  
Are we condemned to believe that reality is dark, violent and hopeless, or can we put our faith in a Universe that, despite it’s shadows, is ultimately shaped by light and love, and choose to live in hope?

If God is real then nothing is more real than God, so which version of God/reality do we, like Pi, want to love?  And to put our faith in?  

By putting our faith in something could we actually help make it real?