The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

I routinely begin my lunch hour at 11:45 a.m. and am frequently found in my car for a few minutes listening to the Minnesota Public Radio program The Daily Circuit with Kerri Miller and Tom Weber. At least once a week Miller has a segment "About Books" and she often has listeners call in to recommend good books they are reading or have read.  

She also does something similar with films, but my drive to an eating place is usually too brief too make the call, so I decided instead to make a recommendation right here... about a story that is both film and book, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.

What follows is a review of the film that I wrote when I first saw it on DVD in 2009. At the end of this blog entry is a link to my blog notes about the book, which I'd acquired shortly after seeing the film.

"Today, my life feels like a string of near-misses. Women I was unable to love, opportunities I failed to seize, moments of happiness I let drift away. A race whose result I knew beforehand but failed to pick the winner. Had I been blind and deaf, or did the harsh light of disaster make me find my true nature?" ~ Jean-Dominique Bauby

Every once in a while a film moves you toward something inexplicably powerful. It is as if you are a child listening to adults talking about something serious which is beyond your comprehension, but it is something real and you lack the life experience to grasp it. Yet you are drawn to understand, because there is something profound taking place.

Such, for me, is Jean-Dominique Bauby’s story The Diving Bell & the Butterfly. I have not read the book, so these comments refer to the Golden Globe Award-winning film by the same name. And maybe the epiphany is simply this, that life is an awesome experience, even when tragic.

What is astonishing is that the film is equal to the task of conveying the story, a real man’s reality. Bauby was a French journalist and editor of the fashion magazine Elle. His life consisted of fame and style, wealth and women… a lifestyle others only dream of. Then one day, at age 43, Bauby suffered a stroke that left him victim to what is called “Locked In Syndrome.” His mental faculties were totally intact but his body paralyzed. Though speechless and immobile, he learned to communicate by blinking a single eyelid.

There are so many beautiful moments in this life affirming film. Despite the seemingly impossible circumstances, he wrote a memoir by blinking with his one good eye. His assistant would repeat the letters of the alphabet until she reached the letter he wanted, at which point he would blink. It took 200,000 blinks, and immense determination, to complete the memoir.

Bauby wrote that he had two things that were not paralyzed: his imagination and his memory. Hence, the title of his book. The paralysis made him feel like a man in a diving bell, cut off from the world, floating helpless, remote. But his mind, with the aid of memories and imagination, was like the butterfly, free to explore, taking him away from this seeming death trap imprisonment.

Based on the reviews, his book is evidently well seasoned with keen insights from a man who had lived life to the full and now recognized that there was still as much yet unseen within us waiting to be discovered, uncovered, revealed.

Follow this link to read more of my thoughts after reading the book.

Life is a gift. Experience it!

Life Is A Gift

About two weeks back I wrote a review here about Jean-Dominique Bauby's The Diving Bell & the Butterfly. Or rather, a review of the film about Jean-Dominique Bauby's story. It was the second time I had seen the film this past several months and as you can see the film made an impact on me. Sometimes art does that. Despite our differences of time and place, differing moments in history or geography and culture, a work of art or a story cuts through to one's heart. Such was this film. So much so that I had to read the book as well because occasionally, during the movie, there are excerpts from the book.

I didn't catch it the first time, didn't realize it was Bauby who was speaking, had written these things. I mean, it was clearly stated but I didn't add it up in my head. This second time, I thirsted for more of this man's prose.

It is beautiful writing, in the true belles-lettres sense of the word, and must be especially so in the original French. The chapters are short, the topics simple. The Wheelchair, Prayer, Bathtime, The Alphabet, The Empress... But each carries a far greater weight because they have been produced one letter at a time by the blinking of an eye. Not in "a blink of an eye" but rather, because every other muscle in his body is frozen except his eyelid, by blinking the left eye he communicates with. Of course this blinking form of communication is simply the final step in the inward development of each pearl, from grains of sand to invaluable jewels, all strung together in this wonderful collection of observations, memories, insights.

This limitation -- communication by eye -- makes telling a joke a bit tedious, yet in the writing you can still see his sense of humor. You see, too, the power of the spirit to rise up in the face of brutal circumstances. His mind is fully awake, and he locked within.

A line from Dylan's Hurricane comes to mind: "put in a prison cell, but one time could have been the champion of the world." Hurricane Carter, who was unjustly imprisoned, was able to appeal his sentence and eventually regained his freedom. For Bauby, such a hope was an impossibility. And yet, through the power of imagination and memory, he did have a certain kind of freedom. Writes Bauby:

"My diving bell becomes less oppressive, and my mind takes flight like a butterfly. There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas' court.

"You can visit the woman you love, slide down beside her and stroke her still sleeping face. You can build castles in Spain, steal the Golden Fleece, discover Atlantis, realize your childhood dreams and adult ambitions."

With these words I leave this thought: Today, cherish what you have. And don't let anyone or anything ever steal your spirit. Life is a precious gift.

And for sure, this book comes highly recommended. You can find it both new and used on Amazon.com... or order it from your favorite local bookstore.

The Diving Bell & the Butterfly

"Today, my life feels like a string of near-misses. Women I was unable to love, opportunities I failed to seize, moments of happiness I let drift away. A race whose result I knew beforehand but failed to pick the winner. Had I been blind and deaf, or did the harsh light of disaster make me find my true nature?" ~ Jean-Dominique Bauby

Every once in a while a film moves you toward something inexplicably powerful. It is as if you are a child listening to adults talking about something serious which is beyond your comprehension, but it is something real and you lack the life experience to grasp it. Yet you are drawn to understand, because there is something profound taking place.

Such, for me, is Jean-Dominique Bauby’s story The Diving Bell & the Butterfly. I have not read the book, so these comments refer to the Golden Globe Award-winning film by the same name. And maybe the epiphany is simply this, that life is an awesome experience, even when tragic.

What is astonishing is that the film is equal to the task of conveying the story, a real man’s reality. Bauby was a French journalist and editor of the fashion magazine Elle. His life consisted of fame and style, wealth and women… a lifestyle others only dream of. Then one day, at age 43, Bauby suffered a stroke that left him victim to what is called “Locked In Syndrome.” His mental faculties were totally intact but his body paralyzed. Though speechless and immobile, he learned to communicate by blinking a single eyelid.

There are so many beautiful moments in this life affirming film. Despite the seemingly impossible circumstances, he wrote a memoir by blinking with his one good eye. His assistant would repeat the letters of the alphabet until she reached the letter he wanted, at which point he would blink. It took 200,000 blinks, and immense determination, to complete the memoir.

Bauby wrote that he had two things that were not paralyzed: his imagination and his memory. Hence, the title of his book. The paralysis made him feel like a man in a diving bell, cut off from the world, floating helpless, remote. But his mind, with the aid of memories and imagination, was like the butterfly, free to explore, taking him away from this seeming death trap imprisonment.

Based on the reviews, his book is evidently well seasoned with keen insights from a man who had lived life to the full and now recognized that there was still as much yet unseen within us waiting to be discovered, uncovered, revealed.