Le Scaphandre et le Papillon

I watched an amazing movie today.

It's a French film, Le Scaphandre et le Papillon, or The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. It was a beautiful and haunting story about a successful magazine editor trapped in his own mind by a stroke. It broke my heart to watch the man at first, then stirred me deeply as he overcame his condition (to an extent) and dictated an entire book by blinking out each letter of each word.

The most affecting part was that the film takes its name from a book. That book. The magazine editor, Jean-Dominique Bauby, really lived. He was the editor of the French Elle, and in his early forties, Bauby suffered a terrible stroke that paralyzed every part of his body save one eye. With that eye Bauby spoke to his wife, whom he had abandoned for another woman. He spoke to his children, whom he was unable to touch or feel. He spoke to Claude Mendibil, a secretary-esque assistant to whom Bauby narrated his life "in the diving bell."

The film's cinematography is beautiful and innovative, showing many things through Bauby's one eye. Perhaps most haunting, though, is the liberal use of Bauby's own words, extracted from the memoir. The lyricism of the work is, while not consistent, often astounding:

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's 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. (The entire first chapter can be viewed here.)

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is at once life-affirming and heart-breaking--a very hard balance to achieve. There are moments of total despondency peppered with wit and joviality--a truly humanistic film. I left the theater saddened and alive at the same time. And guilty. Guilty for wasting my life and my gifts. I can type these words, or say them to people. Bauby's words are far louder--deafening almost--and he speaks in silence.