The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

In this chapter, Bauby reflects on his visits to Paris, ultimately concluding that he is fading away. “My old life still burns within me,” he says, “but more and more of it is reduced to the ashes of memory” (77).

He contrasts his two recent visits to Paris. On the first one, his heart jumped when his ambulance bore him past the high-rise in which he used to work as the editor-in-chief of Elle. He initially recognized the building next door: a 60’s antiquity which he observes is now scheduled for demolition. He thinks that he sees someone he knows on the street, musing that perhaps his former co-workers have glimpsed his ambulance down below. He sheds a few tears as the ambulance passes the café that he used to frequent, and intimates that he can cry quite surreptitiously, as people think that his eye is merely watering.

He then contrasts the acute emotions of his first visit with his stony feelings upon his second visit, in order to demonstrate his withdrawal and distance from his former life. He recalls that, on his second visit, Paris appeared to him as a simulacrum, like a rear-screen projection. “The streets were decked out in summer finery, but for me it was still winter”, he says (78). The city retains its standard beauty and bustle, and Bauby remarks that “Nothing was missing, except me. I was elsewhere” (79).