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After the literature circles in English class, especially after the talk shows we performed, the one book whose story struck me the most was Life of Pi. A teenage boy and a Bengal tiger? In the middle of the Pacific Ocean? I honestly believed that the story belonged in an elementary school class from what I understood to be the storyline.
Wow, was I wrong.
There was much more “meat” to this story than just a variation of Noah’s Ark (or Utnapishtim’s, whichever you prefer). The ways the main character, Pi Patel, explained his life before the Pacific ordeal were very persuasive. He would talk about something trivial, such as life at the zoo or his experiences with various religions, and with each thought he had, he would elaborate it. I agreed with every single one of his arguments: after he talked about the ways zoo animals behaved and why they escaped their enclosures sometimes, it made me feel that an escaping predator was never going to be the end for me; when he illustrated his thoughts about agnosticism, it made me–an agnostic–want to believe in God. Essentially, the story made me believe; it made me think that anything Martel wrote could and would happen, if it hadn’t already. I was lost in this story until I finally finished reading, and by the time I had finished I wanted to read more. Pi’s intellect, wit, and reasoning kept my interest peaked until the last page.
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