The Little Prince. I don’t get it.

So a few weeks ago, The Cute Boy™ and I watched a movie, “My Dinner with Andre” that The Cute Boy™ (who is much smarter than me) had seen before and wanted to watch again. The movie is basically a long conversation between two friends having dinner. The conversation covers a lot of ground including theater, spiritualism and to some extent, existentialism (here’s where I get bogged down and need The Cute Boy™ to help explain).

In the movie, Andre discusses at some length the story “The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. I’ve stumbled across this book before in my life but have never read it. I recall that my best friend in High School loved it and reread it with some frequency. I have a friend I work with who is from Russia and she says it is her favorite book. In fact, her home is decorated with prints of artwork from the book (done by Saint-Exupéry).

I’ve taken a few “woo-woo” classes in my adult life and find that many of the women I’ve met in those courses quote the book and consider it to be an impact on their lives.

Ok, so after watching the movie and thinking on it, I went to my local library (which, I may have mentioned, rooooocks) and found a copy. I took it home quite expectantly and dove right in, ready to get my “wow” from it and my spiritual impact.

I read it through. I read it thoughtfully as I did. And when it was done, I closed the cover and said to myself, “huh…okay.”

It think my favorite part was when the Little Prince described that on his planet (which is quite small) you can watch the sunset every hour, just move your chair. And I liked that notion. I do enjoy sitting in a chair and watching the sun go down (especially over the ocean).

But I don’t consider that a “wow” moment. Or life altering. I just found it an amusing bit of imagination.

So, what am I missing? I consider myself fairly intelligent (six years and two degrees from higher education. Granted, from NMSU, but still, it’s a fully accredited college!). I’m sort of well read. Ok, I do tend to like throwaway fiction better than the classics, but I’ve read enough to know what I like. I’ve even read some fairly complicated stuff.

I just don’t get it? What does that say about me?

I’m going to read it again and see if I get something on a second read. Am I trying to hard? Or not trying hard enough? : shrug :

Maybe it’s just as The Little Prince says…that adults are just like that, they don’t understand. Hmm……

(meanwhile, in my Google searches I found a guy who got a Baobab tree tattooed on his arm?)

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