What Story Do We Choose? Reflections on Life of Pi

Warning: I am going to ruin the book. If you have the slightest thought of reading it on your own, do so before reading this blog.






Life of Pi is a novel by Yann Martel about an Indian boy who grows up the son of a zoo keeper. His family decides to move from India to Canada, and dies in a shipwreck en route. Pi (short for Piscine) survives in a life boat which coincidentally saves a hyena, orangutan, and adult Bengal tiger. Pi, having grown up in a zoo, is quite versed in animal psychology, and manages to survive 270+ days at sea. The hyena and orangutan are not as fortunate.

Pi retells his story in harrowing detail. He recounts how he keeps himself and his pet tiger alive, distilling water and catching fish and turtles to survive on. His account bears an adequate amount of realism until the end where the story proceeds to become more and more unbelievable. Eventually, as Pi is going blind from hunger and seems to be losing his mind, they happen upon another castaway (a Frenchman) in another lifeboat who attempts to kill Pi, but does not account for the hungry tiger behind him. After the tiger dines upon the Frenchman, they stumble upon a perfect island, where Pi can enjoy a vegetarian diet to his heart's content while his tiger can feast upon docile meerkats that inhabit the island. Eventually they leave out of necessity on the lifeboat and land in Mexico. While recovering in a Mexican hospital, Pi is visited by emissaries of the ship company, seeking answers as to the ships sinking. They find none, but listen skeptically to Pi's story. They drive their doubts until Pi tells them another story of what happened.

The alternate story: the life boat was actually inhabited by an invalid sailor (zebra), his mother (the orangutan), an evil French cook (hyena) and himself (guess who). The cook greedily kills and eats the sailor, and a while later brutally kills Pi's mother in front of him as Pi watches at a distance on a makeshift raft. Pi later crawls aboard and while eating a turtle with the cook, stabs him to death and vengefully, viciously eats him.

At the end of the interview, Pi questions the representatives which story they prefer. There is no criminal trial, only opinion. So, which would they choose. The book ends with the account of the ships sinking, which concludes that Pi survived his ordeal with a tiger aboard the boat.

So, which do we choose? This reminded me of the movie Doubt in that it seems to be offering up a parable. The fact is that parables have no right or wrong answers, only that they require us to answer with our own verdict. And it is our verdict that matters, since this reveals each of us to our self. There are plenty of reasons to choose one story over the other, and that's the point. Choosing is the mirror that reveals our own face.

So, allow me to explain what I've seen in my own choices. At first, the end of this book bothered me. I struggle with the idea that religion (the story) can or should serve as a mask to the horridness of reality. A boy who watches his mother stabbed to death and eaten is hardly served by mythologizing his experience. Perhaps, in Martel's words, this makes me guilty of clinging to "dry, yeastless factuality" but, in true existentialist form, I find it better to deal with reality in all of its grotesque and brutal contours than to package it in marketable, yet false, legends.

Yet, I can point out also, that the word "false" in my previous sentence assumes quite a lot. It is factual (in a dry, yeastless sort of way) that the story of four humans on a boat is more believable. It is my own preference to always wants to start from "what really happened". Yet in doing so, it is true that the facts stand there, lifeless and without meaning. It's not that our myths replace them, but that only in such stories can we see the meaning therein. Personally, this represents to me what religion is coming to mean in my life. There is the reality that I perceive, then there is the meaning that I find.

As a sidenote, I'd like to mention my interpretation of the island mentioned in the story. Pi stumbles upon the perfect island, but realizes later that at night all life has to escape to the trees or his lifeboat. The reason for this is that at night, the algae that compose the island become carnivorous and eat all animals that cannot escape. This is confirmed when Pi picks the fruit of the algae and finds that it enshrines human teeth. Personally I find this to be a commentary on Utopian ideals. Whenever our stories, religions or ideologies offer us a perfect world, their perfection is the result of the death of others. Utopias are carnivorous, even though in the day they appear benign. At least that's what I think of it.

At first I thought I didn't like the book very much, but the more I ponder it, the more I enjoy it. A good read, even if I've just drained it of any element of surprise.

Final Thoughts on Wright's 'Surprised by Hope'

My previous post on Wright seems to have sufficiently irked many people. As a result, I've gotten to have quite a few good conversations, so I think it worth it. In light of those conversations, and now the latter two thirds of the book, I'll offer a few more thoughts.

First, I'd like to respond to Jonathan's comment on my last post. I'll start by saying that I, too, do not believe that the reality of entropy in our world necessitates that we imagine the afterlife to consist of harps, clouds, or the obscene use of gold and pearl in construction. When I envision any sort of afterlife, I do envision it as a reality quite like the one I currently reside in minus the crappier aspects which I won't take the time to name. How else could I, or anyone, imagine it? The only categories for joy and fulfillment that humans have, are ones that are connected to our life experience. We have no option but to envisage our greatest hopes as perfected extensions of the world we already inhabit.

Therefore, I have no problem casting our hoped for reality as a transfigured version of the one we are already in. The hope for a transformed world, is my hope too. My problem is the way in which Wright speaks of this: as though decay/entropy is the enemy to be overcome. Science shows that entropy may be seen as the enemy, but that it is also one of the driving forces of creation itself. This, by the way, is not mere theory. This is a law every bit as real as gravity or inertia.

This connects to what I said earlier about the myth of Progress. I agree with Wright that we live in a world that has given up on Utopias. We no longer assume that political science or technological advances will bring about a perfect world. Yet, we still yearn deeply with the hope that technology will bring a cure for cancer. We still pray that scientists and doctors may find cures for M.S. or Lupus. We may not place our faith in Utopian Progress, but we still believe in progress with a little 'p'. If anyone denies this, they should consider how many times in their life they or their loved ones would have died without the advances of medicine, not to mention other technologies. And these progressive innovations, were made by people who have more than a demonizing interpretation of entropy among other concepts.

I think to view death, decay or entropy as our enemies is in fact to view the order of reality as an antagonist. This is where the worldview of the first century and our own will not line up. Yet, I agree that our hope is that this is somehow transcended, that in spite of what we do know, we don't know everything. That in the end we are remembered.

In the end I don't think we can know what awaits us after death, but even still, we all know that what we expect and hope for does, in actuality, say everything about us here and now. For this reason, as I continued to read Wright's book, I was shocked by the beauty of his depiction of Christian hope. He, in some sense, restored my appreciation of the unity of the Christian narrative, and re-focused my attention on the sincerity of faith that it can instill. His expertise in this regard proved to be enough to assuage my skepticism, albeit partially.

This brings me back to what I opened with previously, the antagonism between Crossan and Wright. After finishing Surprised by Hope, I find that, as with all fierce oppositions, the truth is that Crossan and Wright need each other. Neither author is a fool. They are both arguing from opposing platforms that I doubt will ever be totally reconciled, since the language each on couches his arguments in requires rules that the other won't play by. Thus, I think a better option to the mud-slinging that seems to mark their relationship right now, is to seek a better understanding of the other. Both seem to have similar outcomes in mind as a result of their theologies: an increase in human dignity among the poor and disenfranchised. The antipathy between them, and their followers seems horribly unnecessary and even more unfruitful. Personally, I still side mostly with Crossan, but that shouldn't detract from the good things Wright has to say. To borrow from Bryce's use of Ezra Pound, I hope there will be commerce between us.

Entropy Clarified

I've been informed that my previous discussion of entropy left a few people confused, so I'll try to do better. First let me point out that though I am around a lot of science, it is basically a second language to me. I am no physicist. Therefore what I am about to write will likely be unsatisfactory to both scientists and non-scientists alike. So it goes. . .

Entropy is a form of energy which is most easily understood as a state of disorder. Consider shuffling a deck of cards ten times. What are the chances that you will be left with a perfectly ordered deck? We all assume that this will basically never happen. Statistically we can say that there is an infinitely minute possibility that this could happen, only we don't hold our breath for it. Likewise, the chances that the deck will be left with all suits or even colors grouped together are highly unlikely, yet possible. The fact is that there are far more ways for a deck to end up disorganized than organized.

This degree of disorganization is referred to in science as entropy. The deck of cards metaphor is even more apt when we think of it not a shuffling a deck, but playing a game of 52 card pick-up. What are the chances not only that the deck will land in any organized fashion, but even more improbably that it would land neatly stacked and properly ordered? Again, this is not impossible by any laws of nature, other than statistical probability. This basically goes to say that we could have a million people spend their entire lives playing 52 card pick-up, and never witness a single occurrence of such an event. How much more so when we go from 52 cards to countless trillions of atoms and molecules?



Science has found plenty of evidence to suggest that the universe is constantly expanding, which goes to say that the room we are playing 52 card pick-up in is increasing in size, so the disorganization natural to the game we are playing is only finding more chances to increase. This is the second law of thermodynamics. The universe is characterized by the fact that entropy (disorganization) is always increasing. The universe is getting messier.

We live in a world filled with countless examples of organization. Isolated systems can grow more organized, so long as the universe as a whole ends up more disorganized.

Thus, among those from a liberal arts background it quickly becomes a matter of doom and gloom. Chaos is slowly siphoning away the energy that allows for life, for meaning and hope for a future. In the course of time we will be left with a cold, lifeless universe where lonely isolated molecules float in an eternal expanse with a rare and meaningless interaction with other molecules. Insignificance will be the rule.

This is not a totally unrealistic interpretation of scientific facts. Yet, let's consider the reverse. Were it not for entropy the universe would likely have remained a confined and intolerably hot ball of energy, where anything resembling matter (let alone life!) would never have had the slightest opportunity to form. The expansion of the universe allowed for energy to consolidate into subatomic particles. Thus, atoms. Thus, molecules. Thus planets, and their fragile systems. Thus, earth and all its byzantine absurdity.

A hot, matter-less universe is no preferable situation to a cold, lifeless one. But wait, there's more.

The simple fact is that all energy wants to escape into a situation of maximum entropy. Thus when you want an ordered deck of cards you do not shuffle them, or throw them up into the air, much less a stiff breeze. You must go through manually and order them yourself. This requires brain-power, and hand-movements. It requires you to use energy: burn calories. You use some of the calories you burn to organize the cards, the rest becomes body heat which slowly escapes from you into the world around you. Similarly, this heat that escapes into the world, escapes from the world into the universe not as heat but as other forms of energy. Eventually, all energy wants to be "freed" into the world of deep space where the greatest level of disorganization is possible.



So, why does this matter?

The vast majority of chemical processes in our world that allow for life in all its forms harness the tendency of matter/energy toward entropy. Life, so to speak, is riding the entropic wave as far as it will go. We should have no illusions; this wave will run out. But, were it not for entropy there would never have been any chance that life could have come into existence in the first place. When sugar breaks down in your body, it releases energy that according to the laws of the universe seeks a more disordered state. Along its way toward disorganization, our body and the proteins in it, uses it to organize the very molecules that allow us to maintain "life". Our bodies work on the principle that the universe's momentum toward disorder can be used to create order.

This obviously carries huge implications concerning the duration of our universe, our reality. The world is temporary. No matter how long we can drag this reality out, it will eventually end. It is funny that it is generally only Westerners who find this deeply problematic. Our Hindu friends laugh at our silliness in ever assuming otherwise.

This is, in large degree, where I find the views of people like N.T. Wright implausible. Were it our destiny to raise from the dead and re-inhabit this world, then we also inherit a plethora of difficulties needing to be explained. If we assume a gracious and loving God then I find the sheer number of resurrectees difficult. At seven billion we are facing horrible over-population problems, then what of the trillions of human lives that could be accounted for throughout history. Perhaps this thinking is too mundane. Then what are we to make of our Sun which is increasing in size. A million more years and its heat will make this planet no great inheritance for anyone. Do I simply lack imagination? What of the fact that in a billion years the energy of our universe will be so widely dispersed and so stable as to make, no only life, but all chemical interactions impossible.

I don't mean to question God's capacity to change the laws of the universe. Yet, the question remains, that if he does, how is this qualitatively different to the notion of heaven? Perhaps he will create a world like earth for the resurrected dead to inhabit, but that is still not our world. And, a universe freed from the reliance on and threat of entropy is not the universe we live in now.

I also understand the heart of Wright and people like him, who believe that resurrection faith places greater value on our world and human dignity. Still, willing belief based on the fact that we've rested our ethics on an untenable worldview seems a poor way to cope with the difficulties of the human situation.

As a poor scientist and a fair theologian, I hope that sheds some light on a difficult but important subject.

After 100 Pages of N.T. Wright

As one who is sympathetic to the views of J.D. Crossan, I've long known that I should consider myself opposed to the views of N.T. Wright. So I hear. Until last week I had never read anything by him. Several friends had noted how egregious they found this omission, Jonathan among them. So, he proceeded to buy me a copy of Surprised by Hope for my birthday. I'm about a third of the way through it now, and as could be predicted I'm finding myself highly at odds with Wright. Allow me to point out a few of my biggest objections so far:

First, is his method of arguing against Crossan whom he rarely names, but certainly includes as a member of the spurious "revisionists". His use of this term is pejorative and comes across with no small degree of smugness. His reasoning against Crossan does offer what seem to be legitimate critiques, but does so in a way that grossly oversimplifies both Crossan's arguments as well as the level of ambiguity inherent in the texts. Furthermore, Crossan's take on Scripture is one that seeks to understand the world around the it as much as the actual texts themselves. Wright, conversely, only makes vague references to philosophical trends of the world around the Bible. I don't mean to imply that he is ignorant of this world, but his arguments seem trapped within the world of Scripture, and thus (from my limited understanding of the world around Scripture) his arguments seemed to base themselves in contextual hearsay rather than the specific historical context. Again, I'm sure (or at least I certainly hope) in his more scholarly tomes he backs himself up better. Yet here, his scope of reference seems sadly narrow, and so, no matter how sound his arguments are, they seem incomplete.

Secondly, as one who spends much of his time around scientists, I feel that his critique of the myth of Progress is little more than an overblown caricature. True the idea that the human race is progressing towards some heavenly future by means of our own intelligence has been largely cast aside. It is culpable for much of the current ecological crisis and countless other horrid, modern developments. Yet, elements of it are certainly irreplaceable. The myth of Progress is also intimately tied to the advent of antibiotics, current methods of farming, even the electronic world that allows you to read what I've just written. Progress is no longer to believed to be leading us to Utopia, true. The vast number of Dystopian movies produced in the last 30 years proves that. Yet, while we continue to wait endlessly for the resurrection to make all things new, we have little choice but at least hope that progress will help us fix what we've already messed up, and add dignity where we have formerly only known pain. I agree with him that progress is not the answer for everything. I agree that it does a poor job of accounting for evil in our world. Still, his flippant rejection of its merits seems naive at best.

Third, it seems that Wright would prefer that we all simply reverted to a first century apocalyptic worldview. I find this laughable. I realize that he is really arguing for a return to a resurrection eschatology, and that he believe that this should prevent things such as nuclear war. But, anyone who studies the results of apocalyptic expectations in the first century would be hard-pressed to convince me that this would not imply the swift annihilation of everything on this planet other than rocks and bacteria. After all if God can simply transfigure the world in the resurrection glory of the new creation, then what does a few thousand years of desolation matter? So, I fear, would go the rationale of the masses, should they follow Wright's train of thought. I don't see a return to expectation of resurrection really solving many of our current problems. Furthermore, the current unfashionableness of belief in resurrection is equally tied to the fact that we've been waiting for two millennia, through countless religious wars, through a seeming endless return of the same, clinging to a hope that is ever more remote and ever more difficult to reconcile with what we know of the world. If we've seen too much to have faith in progress, then how much more so with the resurrection?

Lastly, allow me to quote:
"Every force, every authority in the whole cosmos, will be subjected to the Messiah, and finally death itself will give up its power. In other words, that which we are tempted to regard as the permanent state of the cosmos - entropy, threatening chaos, and dissolution - will be transformed by the Messiah as the agent of the creator God." (99, bold mine)
I find this abuse of science to be highly annoying, especially since it sounds as though it is being paraphrased out of Time magazine. Entropy is often cast as an insidious and irrepressible force of meaninglessness. Yet a universe without entropy would be incapable of life. Entropy allows for all the chemical processes in our world which give way to life. It is generally referred to as "disorder", but can just as accurately be referred to as "freedom". The electricity that flows through your brain allowing you to perceive the words on this screen, flows due to entropy. All matter in the universe is seeking the greatest amount of freedom, and thus we can rest assured that unless the Order of the Universe is completely altered, our world will one day end. This also goes to say that any other worlds in the universe which may harbor life, though they may long outlast us, will end too. Yet, if it were not for this same force, life in any form would never have come into being in the first place. If the force of entropy is halted, then life is still just as impossible as it will be when entropy is carried to the farthest extreme. I believe a Creator God could easily recreate our universe such that our existence continues without entropy, but to do so would also mark the end of what we know as reality and the start of something totally different. This seems, to me, to render Wright's arguments for resurrection null and void. Maybe that's just my take. Even where I disagree with him historically, I can see his expertise. Scientifically, though, he would do better to take a freshman chemistry class before he publishes.

Nonetheless, it is making me think, and has gotten me intrigued enough to hope to read one of his more substantial works. For the many Wright sympathizers who read this, I am determined to remain open to any defense you might give. I plan to finish the book in any case, and then get back to reading the liberal Christians who are all that manage to convince me not to convert to Judaism.