A short introduction, hmm? Well, I'm Anthony, a
French-Kenyan opera conductor, freelance fashion journalist, budding architect,
bitcoiner, and polo player. My interests lie in Franco-Japanese literature,
fashion and cuisine; Post-modernism; Futurism; Lepidoptery; Impressionism;
Plato and Herodotus. I'm new to blogging and write over at I, Contra Mundum about everything
from fashion and philosophy, to graphic novels and mental health. Though my
writing may make me seem grumpy and serious, I'm actually the laziest, most
melodramatic prankster one'll ever know. Want to know more? Just ask.
Review
Voici mon secret. Il set très simple: on ne voit
bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel set invisible pour les jeux.
(Renard, Chapter XII - Le Petit Prince)
As an keen reader, I like slipping away into the
admittedly wonderful exercise of dissolving into a narrative - escaping the
present, escaping critical eyes, escaping time - as does happen in the case of
those rare novels that are convincing, thought provoking and entertaining.
Having, rather fortuitously, read many such novels, picking my favourite seemed
to be, at first, quite the onerous task. I kept oscillating between Dante,
Murakami, di Lampedusa and Saint-Exupéry. But I decided to go with my heart, as
one should with choices such as these; and the French aristocrat, writer, poet
and aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's children's book, The Little Prince,
won me over.
Le Petit Prince, as it's known in
French, was written during Saint-Exupéry's self-imposed exile to the US after
the fall of France to Nazi Germany. He was on a mission to convince the US
government to intervene and amidst personal turmoil wrote a delicate story
about friendship, love, loneliness and loss. The story, self-illustrated too,
tells of a pilot (the narrator, Saint-Exupéry himself) stranded in a desert who
happens to meet a Prince - believed to be from asteroid B-612 - who has fallen
to Earth. The Prince begins relaying to the pilot his life on the asteroid and
travels from planet to planet in search of the meaning of life.
I first encountered The Little Prince when I
was twelve, sometime after my parent's messy (read: expensive) divorce, and a
few weeks into my new life in Neuilly-sur-Seine with my grandmama. It was in
her study that I first found the book. My French wasn't very good back then, I
struggled, so grandmama used the book to teach me French, and she'd also read
it to me before bed-time. As a child, a lot of the book's more profound
observations were lost on me. At that time, what interested me most, were the
analogues of human society that the Prince encountered, from the Tippler who
drinks because he is ashamed of his drinking problem, to the merchant who sells
pills that quench thirst and, therefore, save one 'fifty-three minutes in every
week.'
Albeit it's classification as a children's book,
The Little Prince is also philosophical in nature. It weaves an endearing
message of childhood innocence through the perspective of an adult's analytical
mind. The Prince's incredulity at how boring and unimaginative adults are -
'Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for
children to be always and forever explaining things to them.' - mirrored how I
felt with the grown-ups around me. It was the first time in my life that I felt
a real connection with a fictional protagonist - a feeling that I have rarely
encountered since and only matched with Fitzgerald's Amory Blaine. But even in
my youth certain scenes struck me with their significance, like when the Prince
encounters a group of roses and compares them to his own rose on B-612, and he
says to them, 'You are beautiful, but you are empty…No one could die for you.'
As I grew older, I read and re-read The Little
Prince a few times with a tear. Reflecting while I read, encouraged me to
think of other tales similar in scope; tales whose foundations were built on
themes of youth, discovery, and a critical examination of our society. The
Prince's words serve to highlight the flaws and the unimaginative reality of
being an adult in modern society. The universality of this message can be
witnessed in J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan, C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of
Narnia and Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials. They all, in their
own way, play with the notion of saudade (to borrow a Portuguese word),
bringing into focus the rites of passage we all go through in our ascent, or
descent if you're a cynic like me, into adulthood.
As this story gnaws at the facade of the
authoritarian and materialistic universe in which the Little Prince resides,
the reader is able to witness the self-indulgent nature of the universe
surrounding our protagonist. His asteroid is a reminder, to him and to us, of
the simple things that matter and of where youthful delights still exist. In
turn, when he hastily leaves this simple existence behind after an argument
with his love (a rose flower), his search for meaning leaves him with more
questions than answers. To comprehend the quantitative nature of the world
around him becomes an arduous task. The Prince’s bewilderment with adult
society is what we must all grapple with as we grow up. The road taken to
achieve our aspirations and gain maturity is littered with the discarded
innocence of our youth. Much in the same way as Blake's Songs of Innocence
and Experience.
Yet, a few years ago in boarding school, I
encountered and was subsequently tasked with defending the Prince from friends
who challenged the book's overall optimism. They argued, as Goethe wrote that,
'At the end of their lives, all men look back and think their youth was
arcadia.' This was apt considering Saint-Exupéry was very ill when he wrote the
book. If, like my friends, you read this book and are similarly pessimistic I
guide you to the quote at the start of this review. It comes from Chapter XXI
of the book, when the Prince befriends a fox. The tale's essence, it's heart,
is contained in the parting lines the fox utters to the little Prince, 'Here is
my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see
rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.' A message we, like the
little Prince, can all live by.
P.S: I hear Hollywood is
releasing a film of The Little Prince next year, starring James Franco, Rachel
McAdams and Jeff Bridges. I really don't know what to think of that cast but
similarly I can't wait to see what they do. Wish it wasn't in 3D though.
Note: For those who can't read French
and are thinking of getting an English translation, I highly recommend
Katherine Woods' translation. A few errors aside, she really hits the poetic
flow of the book. Happy reading!
