My Non-Book Review Book Review: Life of Pi

The best stories speak of life in ways you can understand, by commenting anecdotally on the things you know in your heart to be true, but are so subtle or subconscious that you've never thought of them before. But just as soon as you read these elements of good stories, you say in your heart, "Yes, of course. I've thought that for my entire life, but I've only just now put the thought into words. Or rather, this book has. I should quote this in my blog."

I just finished reading Life of Pi by Yann Martel, which took, well, not long at all for a man as busy and slow-reading as myself. I spent about two and a half weeks on the first 180 pages. And I read the last 150 last night. Couldn't put it down. And I wouldn't want to bore you with a book review that would critique the story and suck all the life out of it. I give it a 10 out of 10. That's all you need to know. Looking for something to read? I would suggest Life of Pi. There, book review over. But I do want to share with you a passage from the book that has been nearly life-changing for me these last few weeks. As I described above, it's one of those passages that made me say, "But of course! I've always known that! Now I finally have words for that thought!" For context, Pi, the main character and narrator, is the son of a zookeeper. He actively practices Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam. His fascination with animals and God often intersect, helping him, ultimately, to better understand people, and God. It's an intriguing read. And the following passage has stayed with me since I read it on page 31, the very day I started reading the book.

Just beyond the ticket booth Father had had painted on a wall in bright red letters the question: DO YOU KNOW WHICH IS THE MOST DANGEROUS ANIMAL IN THE ZOO? An arrow pointed to a small curtain. There were so many eager, curious hands that pulled at the curtain that we had to replace it regularly. Behind it was a mirror.

But I learned at my expense that Father believed there was another animal even more dangerous than us, and one that was extremely common, too, found on every continent, in every habitat: the redoubtable species Animalus anthromorphicus, the animal as seen through human eyes. We've all met one, perhaps even owned one. It is an animal that is "cute", "friendly", "loving", "devoted", "merry", "understanding". These animals lie in ambush in every toy store and children's zoo. Countless stories are told of them. They are the pendants of those "vicious", "bloodthirsty", "depraved" animals that inflame the ire of the maniacs I have just mentioned, who vent their spite on them with walking sticks and umbrellas. In both cases we look at an animal and see a mirror. The obsession with putting ourselves at the centre of everything is the bane not only of theologians but also of zoologists.

Indeed, the self is an interesting thing. We Christians like to dismiss it. Selflessness is a virtue. Nietzsche considered that to be the worst thing about Christians - the dismissal of the self. Ayn Rand, too, thought it was despicable, not specifically the Christians but altruists altogether, to consider selflessness a virtue. I do believe that Nietzsche and Rand and all the rest who despise the Christian/altruistic view of the self as despicable have indeed misinterpreted things, skewed them to fit an agenda. The Scriptures don't actually encourage selflessness. Love God and love your neighbor as yourself, for instance. Well if we didn't care about the self at all, we certainly wouldn't make very good neighbors.

It's just that the self has a right place and a wrong place. The self is a gift given to us. For people who were created in the image of God, the self is always going to be the most accessible image, however incomplete it may be, of the image of God. Placing the self as an incomplete but accurate image of who God is would be placing the self in the right place. Assuming that everything we do or think is the image of God - now, that would be taking the matter too far. We are not God, though we often would prefer it. But we must humbly acknowledge that everything that is good in us is probably a reflection of God's person, given to us out of his overwhelming love. He could have created us to be completely different, separate, opposites of him. But as with humans and animals, only certain things are separate and different between us and God. Other things are quite similar.

The fault of the anti-altruists - Nietzsche in particular - is that they liken Christianity to Asceticism. Asceticism is not the Christian calling. Self-denial is not good. Self-oppression is not virtuous. Self-destruction is not noble. The Scriptures do not call for that. It is because we know the love which God has had for us that we even know how to love those around us. It is because God has forgiven us that we know how to forgive others. It is because God has placed joy in our hearts that we desire for others to know true joy. It is because Jesus died on the cross for us that we wish to live sacrificial lives on the behalf of others. And it is because Jesus rose again that we know life after death is available to us, and it is precisely because it is available to us that we desire it to be available to others. If we eradicate the self, we eradicate all the memorials of what God has done, for it is our own souls that are the grounds for those memorials. Destroy the self, and you destroy all the memories of God's good work - the change and tranformation He has worked out in our lives.

Indeed, often we go astray, and we do what we do with housepets and zoo animals - we describe God in human terms, in a human perspective, with human limitations. We limit the limitless. In the dangerous task of using the image of God that is ourselves to understand better who God is, we must acknowledge that he is so much bigger, better, and more holy. In myself, I see a minuscule piece of who God is. By getting married, I see in my wife another minuscule piece of who God is. Throw in our church community and our students in InterVarsity, it's a lot less minuscule, but still minuscule. Throwing in nature around us helps too. Throwing in church cultures from around the world, the picture gets a little clearer. But regardless, ourselves, our spouses, our churches, our communities, our cultures - all of them are clouded over by sin, which prevents us from fully being able to see who God is through who we are.

The bottom line is this: God is who He is. Flat out. Nothing can give us a complete, holy picture of who He is, except for Him. So the self can only go so far. The self is how we remember what God has done. It is how we respond to what God has done. But it is only God Himself who can reveal Himself truly to us. And, you see, He's thoughtful like that. For God is very big. Let's give thanks that He's actually kind enough to reveal Himself in small bits so our heads and hearts don't explode.