"In the jaws of a tiger, one's body is, for all practical purposes, weightless and, in the case of Andrei Pochepnya, it appeared to have no substance at all. This begs an obscure metaphysical question: if the body journeys through the viscera of an animal - if its substance and essence become that animal - what happens to the soul? Hurricanes, avalanches, and volcanoes consume people, but such random acts of insensate violence are considered acts of God; they don't pick their targets, nor do they metabolize them. It is rare that one is confronted as these men were, with such overwhelming evidence of one's mutability in the face of a sentient natural force. In this way, tigers and their quasi-conscious kin occupy an uncharted middle ground somewhere between humans and natural catastrophes. Under certain circumstances, the tiger can have the same nullifying effect as a long look into the night sky."
I love this passage for the possibilities of dance contained within it. The body transformed through viscera. The mind emptied by the sublime.