The Diving Bell and the Butterfly Symbols And Motifs
The diving bell and the butterfly are two motifs which function both in conflict and tandem with each other. They provide an animating tension that drives much of the text’s thematic schema. The diving bell represents several distinct, but decidedly earthbound things,which correlates to the way that locked-in syndrome fiercely constricts Bauby’s existence. At various points within the memoir, the diving bell is a metaphor for the syndrome itself, a window into Bauby’s physical experience, and a concrete representation of the barrier that has gone up between himself and his former life, as well as between himself and his loved ones.
The butterfly, which often appears within the same passage as the diving bell, in turn represents the delicate and fragile beauty of life, from which Bauby is physically (though not emotionally nor intellectually) cut off. The butterfly, as a motif, often represents the pleasures and beauties that lie just beyond Bauby’s reach. In that sense, it functions as a stand-in for his former life, and for the vivid memories that lie, pulsing, at the edges of his consciousness, waiting to be grasped.
In another sense, though, the butterfly represents the beauties and pleasures that Bauby has refused to forfeit, despite the stubborn failure of his body. Together, the diving bell and the butterfly represent the ongoing tension between the unassailable limits and the ferocious will to live that persists within Bauby’s many lives—his former and his present ones, as well as his intellectual and physical existences.
Women and Feminine Figures Empress Eugenie, the wife of Napoleon III, is the first female figure Bauby invokes in his narrative. His imagining of her is full of mischief, playfulness, and lush sensory detail, as he constructs her into a warmly benevolent and almost flirtatious presence. Florence, the lover for whom he left his wife, is intermittently depicted as an extremely beautiful, loving presence. He renders his speech therapist Sandrine as a literal guardian angel.
Even Claude, the young woman who takes his transcription of the book, is rendered as a lovely figure, radiating gracious and fastidious kindness. Josephine, one of the stars of Chapter 15, is portrayed in poignant detail that betrays a deep affection, despite the contentious nature of their relationship. The Madonna of Lourdes, although a bit more of a minor feminine figure in comparison to the former examples, is still nonetheless purposefully invoked as a famously beatific feminine entity.
Even a nurse, who is a simple country girl, is depicted as a lovely and softly robust presence. Celeste, his daughter, also functions as a paragon of innocence and vitality, and a constant source of hope and strength. It is clear through these depictions that Bauby sees women as paragons of beauty, pleasure, warmth, and virtue. They function as beacons of grace and light, steadily anchoring Bauby throughout his tempestuous journey through the grief and acceptance of his new life.
Assorted Anonymous Medical Staff Although a few members of Bauby’s medical entourage make complete cameos complete with their names/and or salient characteristics (Sandrine, his speech therapist, and the ill-tempered ophthalmologist, and the various personalities upon whom he has bestowed humorous nicknames in Chapter 25, for example) there is an outer ring of unnamed medical staff. Although, or perhaps because of, their lack of names, this supporting cast of characters comes to symbolize humanity at large.
Sometimes, Bauby lists their failures and his subsequent negative responses to them, which range from mild resentment to outright murderous rage. However, Bauby inevitably cycles back to creating compassionate portraits of them that showcase their humanity and assert that they are simply doing the best that they can. He even gives them the treatment of icons when he recounts his dream in which they have become memorialized in a wax museum.
Through these recurring depictions, Bauby effectively forms the thesis that each human life is precious, complex, and worthy of tenderness and care—no matter if you catch someone on a bad day, or in the middle of an annoying quick or foible. The anonymity of these characters also functions to solidify their opacity, thereby foregrounding the message that each human being is a mystery, with a full inner life that is all their own.
Coldness/Darkness At various points within the memoir, Bauby invokes embodied coldness and/or darkness to depict the pain and grief of his condition. In Chapter 12, for example, he spends many passages recounting the bitter cold that characterized the landscape of his dream. The dream, being an analogy to locked-in syndrome, thus functions as a window into his experience, with the cold functioning as a symbol for the unstoppable tide of mortality and the bitter and almost total physical restriction that the stroke ushered into his life.