Though not invoked as frequently as the titular symbol of the diving bell, butterflies nonetheless emerge as an important symbol of Jean-Dominique Bauby’s imagination and inner life. Bauby imagines hearing invisible butterflies beating their wings softly in the corners of his mind; over the course of the summer, they come to symbolize the literalization of his imagination taking flight as he dictates his memoir. Bauby’s ability to imagine things and lose himself in reverie is one of the only things keeping him afloat. At mealtimes, when he’s fed through a tube, he envisions eating delicious meats and fresh vegetables; during his demoralizing weekly sponge baths, he remembers the long and luxurious soaks he used to take in the tub in his Paris home. He imagines himself on trips to Hong Kong with his Elle coworkers, seeing new sights and feeling like the center of the fashion world; he imagines being a member of the coterie of Empress Eugénie, the patroness of the Berck-sur-Mer hospital and wife of Napoleon III. The “butterflies” symbolize these various flights of fancy, which sustain Bauby as he reckons with the weight of the “diving bell” his body has become.
Butterflies Quotes in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
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.
Far from such din, when blessed silence returns, I can listen to the butterflies that flutter inside my head. To hear them, one must be calm and pay close attention, for their wingbeats are barely audible. Loud breathing is enough to drown them out. This is astonishing: my hearing does not improve, yet I hear them better and better. I must have butterfly hearing.