“Le Petit Prince” narrates the timeless tale of a little boy, struggling with the complexities of love, loss and friendship.
It is a book that spoke to my soul. The Little Prince is a book for adults who remember what it felt like to be child. It is for those who feel a longing for the simple beauty of childhood. It is for those who have loved, and lost their very own Roses, and Foxes. It is for those who can no longer go back but can still look up at the sky on a starry night and laugh, imagining they hear the answering laugh of the Little Prince.
It taught me the cruel truth of why certain roses can hold such permanent places in our hearts. It taught me the yearning of nostalgia, the fear of the overwhelming burden of desolation, the comprehension of a frangible kind of beauty. It taught me about heartbreak and death, but also about a prince with hair of gold and a laugh like falling stars.
The Fox conveys the message that humans don’t look beyond the surface and are fixated on wealth and appearance instead. They don’t realize that the true meaning of life can only be found in the little things. At the end of the day, it’s these little things that you remember: the ephemeral tranquillity of dawn, the tragic beauty of a graveyard of stars, uncontrollable laughter to the point it physically hurts – but it’s the good kind of pain, falling asleep in the arms of the one you’ve loved, the exhilarating surge of birds in circled flight.
No longer do people look for compassion and kindness in a friend: It is beauty, wealth and influence that matter. Even when the Prince encountered thousands of roses identical to his rose, the intensity of his feelings never faltered. It was the time spent with his Rose that made her special, not something as temporary as her physical beauty. It was the invisible bond of love, the minute details that inspired feelings of love.
The little prince chose death over life without his rose, because he was in love with her- and without her, his life was devoid of meaning. She was the light of his life, like a meteor shooting across the sky- bright, on a dark moonless night. Without her, there was no laughter, no light, no beauty- just infinite darkness. But in my imagination, the Prince is still very much alive, as is the rose, the fox, the baobabs and the laughing stars. In my imagination, the stars get brighter still, and they are permanent. Soon their light will be apparent, not just for French readers, but for readers everywhere, readers who have the eyes to see and creativity to imagine. And remember, in the middle of the desert, a small prince will arrive to show you the meaning of life, a star will shine to remind you to laugh and a writer will write to help you persevere.