The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

In this chapter, Bauby finally recounts the events of the day of his stroke—Friday, December 8, 1995. He muses that, since beginning the book, he has intended to describe the last moments of his former, normal life. He confesses that, having put it off for so long, the prospect of re-telling it makes him dizzy.

On the morning of December 8, he awakens, perhaps a bit grumpily, beside “the lithe, warm body of a tall, dark-haired woman”—his new girlfriend Florence (119). The gray, muted city of Paris is in the grips of a transport strike, which is fraying the nerves of its millions of denizens. He mechanically carries out quotidian tasks that now seem miraculous to him: shaving, dressing, and drinking a hot chocolate. On that day, he had an appointment to test the latest model of a German automobile, and the importer had given him the gunmetal BMW and a driver for the entire day.

He and Florence exchange rushed goodbyes, “their lips scarcely brushing together”, before he runs down the stairs that smelled of floor polish—the last smells of his past. Once he gets into the car, the crisis-riddled traffic reports are punctuated by the Beatles song “A Day in the Life”. Its lyrics continue to punctuate the events of the day in his retelling.

The BMW glides along, a private world of luxury helmed by a pleasant driver. He tells the driver of his afternoon plans to pick up his son from his mother’s place, which is twenty-five miles outside of Paris. He plans to bring him back to the city in early evening. He intimates that he and Théophile had not had a heart-to-heart talk since he moved out of the family house in July. He plans to take him to the theater, and then to eat oysters at a restaurant. He is dropped off at his office, and plans to meet his driver at 3:00 PM.

The sole message on his desk entreated him to return a call to Simone V., former minister for health and a revered figure at the magazine. His assistant volunteers that Simone may be unhappy with her photo in the last issue. He skims the issue and finds the offending photo, which does indeed ridicule her, despite her iconic status among the magazine staff. He calls Simone V. and attempts to persuade her of her respected status at the magazine, although he is neither accustomed nor suited to the diplomacy that is normally the duty of production chief Anne-Marie.

He then attends the editor-in-chief’s luncheon and consumes his last drink—water. He thinks that the main course was beef, and sardonically muses that perhaps they all contracted mad cow disease, which has an incubation periodof fifteen years. The only illness reported that day, however, was that of President Miterrand, who would yet live for another month. He sneaks out of the luncheon without saying goodbye to anyone, and it is already 4:00 PM. The driver graciously apologizes, saying that they will be caught in a traffic jam. For an exhausted moment, Bauby considers abandoning his entire plan.

When they pass the Raymond-Poincaré Hospital at Garches, Bauby recounts that he cannot pass it without recalling the time that he was aboard a bus that hit and instantly killed a man who had dashed out of the hospital and into traffic without looking. After hours of police questioning, a different driver took over, and passengers in the back shakily sang the Beatles’ “Penny Lane”. Bauby wonders what songs his son will remember when he is 44.

After an hour and a half, they reach the house where Bauby spent ten years of his life. Fog hangs over the garden, which once was filled with mirth. Théophile sits on his backpack at the gate, waiting and ready for the weekend. He recalls that he would have liked to call Florence, but that she was at her parents’ place for the Jewish Sabbath. He expects to speak with her after the play.

From this point forward, everything becomes blurry for Bauby. Nevertheless, he takes the wheel of the BMW. He begins to function in slow-motion, barely recognizing the landscape which should be very familiar to him. He has begun to sweat and see double. At the first intersection, he pulls over and staggers from the car, then collapses on the rear seat. He figures that he must get back to the village and to the home of his sister-in-law Diane, who is a nurse. Once there, Théophile runs and gets her, and her decision is quick: they must get to the clinic, as quickly as possible.

This time, the driver is behind the wheel, going as fast as he can. Bauby feels as if he has swallowed an LSD tablet, although it never occurs to him that he may be dying. The car plows, honking, through traffic, and Bauby tries to say, “Slow down. I’ll get better. It’s not worth risking an accident” (126-127). However, no sound comes from his mouth, and his head begins to wobble on his failing neck. They arrive at the clinic and people run frantically about while he is transported, limp, into a wheelchair. His eyes are dazzled by the neon lights of the corridor while strangers reassure him, and he can hear the finale of “A Day in the Life”. Before he loses consciousness, he thinks, “We’ll have to cancel the play. We would have been late in any case. We’ll go tomorrow night” (127). He wonders where Théophile has gone before sinking into a coma.