In 1995 Jean-Dominique Bauby, editor in chief of French "Elle" and father of two small children, was paralyzed by a stroke to the brain stem. After 20 days in a coma, he awoke able to communicate only by blinking his left eyelid. This is his memoir of what it is like to suffer "locked-in syndrome." Although Bauby describes himself as "exiled, paralyzed, mute, half deaf, deprived of all pleasures and reduced to the existence of a jellyfish," his imagination soars like a butterfly.
The author feels surrounded by love — "in every corner of the world, the most diverse deities have been solicited in my name." Bauby savors in his mind the sense luscious realm of tastes, smells, and sounds from his old life of work and travel. The letters of friends and relatives provide access to the inestimable world of small delights — "those small gusts of happiness." Bauby's memoir is a jewel because his "bedridden travel notes" celebrate the multidimensional drumbeats of life that pulsate through the ordinary rhythms of a hospital ward. Although Bauby died two days after this volume was published in France (it has been translated by Jeremy Leggatt), The Diving Bell and the Butterfly takes its place as a classic in the literature of illness thanks to its radiant prose.