The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

Empress Eugénie, 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. Joséphine, 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. Céleste, 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. 

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.