
85. Life of Pi by Yann Martel, 2001
I read this book during a hurricane my senior year of high school. I’d picked it up the day before the storm hit, right before filling my car up with gas and going home to help put hurricane shutters up. The next day the storm hit, I can’t even remember the name of that one, maybe Fred, and I began tearing through all the books I had. I read Tess of the D’Urbervilles and found myself very unhappy by its conclusion, a feeling that most of Hardy’s books give me by their ends. Then I began Life of Pi and read it in a full day, curled up on the couch, where I got light through a space in the shutters in the daytime and used candlelight to read at night since the power had gone out. It was beautiful. I read it overnight, falling asleep now and then but waking up to finish it early the next morning. I finished it and felt full of such a hope, such a good feeling. The storm had passed a few hours later and I ventured outside to walk my dog. My neighborhood was full of fallen trees and roofs torn apart but everyone around me was safe. I felt new, wise, and exhausted all at once. I felt the earth beneath me sigh as it realized that all was well.