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That way his wife would be able to collect the insurance money without having to wait the statutory seven years after a mere disappearance. Faced with the absurdity of life, French existentialists threw their hands up in the air and gave up. Saint-Exupery lived through the same depressing times as did Sartre and Camus feeling just as lost as they did but he never gave up on living. He got up so he could wedge himself on a rock and that way his body would be found in the spring. Dying of thirst, he is not even tempted to use his gun to end his suffering. Man defines himself by the act of living.One of the most famous passages describes how Henri Guillaumet made his way out of the Andes after a plane crash.
"What I did , no animal would have done." said Guillaument when found, broken but alive.We read of young peasant girls bursting with joy at caring for a pet and of soldiers fighting because that is their trade, despite knowing war is futile and horrible. They failed utterly to place man within the universe. When Guillaumet reached the rock, he simply continued walking. Walking several days and nights through the snow, he refuses to stop because he knows his comrades and his wife believe that if he lives, he walks. He fell once and accepted he would die buried in the falling snow. Later, when Saint-Ex relates his own crash in the middle of a desert, he goes on the same way Guillaumet went.
Living is its own end.Vincent Poirier, Tokyo
I absolutely felt lifted above the earth, into the French author's big world view of 1936, as he spoke of his adventures and thoughts about life from the vantage point of an early aviator. Please read this book.
A short review. The translator deserves a prize.A second shorter piece at the end talks about the authors experience in observing the 1930's Spanish Civil War, between the fascists and the nationalists / socialists. You can't walk away from this true adventure book without feeling great about mankind, its accomplishments and its future. Every young man with a future ahead of him should read it (and any young woman who can stand a book without any female characters).The prose is simply beautiful, and I never thought I would say that about any book. Shorter, as emotional and more readable than Hemingway's "For Whom the Bell Tolls" - it deals with the same civil war. The fascists won.
I really enjoyed the book. being a pilot ,it was exciting to read of his adventures.
Consider his rebuke to the Luddites among us: "Numerous, nevertheless, are the moralists who have attacked the machine as the source of all the ills we bear, who, creating a fictitious dichotomy, have denounced the mechanical civilization as the enemy of the spiritual civilization." (p 43) And for those amongst us who have been thrilled to the austere beauty of the desert, including myself: "I shall never be able to express clearly whence comes this pleasure men take from aridity, but always and everywhere I have seen men attach themselves more stubbornly to barren land than to any other. of water, and the reminders over the loudspeakers about the "threat levels" to one's existence. Consider: "Nobody grasped you by the shoulder while there was still time. His book captures the sheer exuberance of flight, and the excitement of a nighttime aerial crossing of the Sahara.
This little Mozart will love shoddy music in the stench of night dives. Likewise, he relates finding passages through the 21,000 ft Andes with a plane whose "ceiling" is 18,000 ft. Along with his technical skills, and his descriptive powers, he brings the intellect of a philosopher to his writings. Fear of flying nowadays mainly involves a strong distaste for the crowded planes, fear of drawing a far too overweight passenger as your next seat companion, the comedy of the search routines prior to boarding, including a fear of more than 3 oz. His plane crashed in the Mediterranean during WW II, but his mission at the time appeared not to be related to the war, but rather the oldest and most common of peccadilloes, the pleasures of the flesh. And we, my comrades and I, we too have loved the desert to the point of feeling that it was there we had lived the best years of our lives." (p84) Or later: ".it was here in the desert he possessed his veritable treasures--this prestige of the sand, the night, the silence, this homeland of wind and stars." (p105)A strong theme in this book is the lost potential in each person, the contrast between what they could have become, and what they have settled for, once the routines have hardened.
Now the clay of which you were shaped has dried and hardened, and naught in you will ever awaken the sleeping musician, the poet, the astronomer that possibly inhabited you in the beginning." (p11). He ends the book on this theme, writing of the child Mozarts throughout the world: "This is a life full of beautiful promise." Saint-Exupery realizes he won't make it to his potential, won't soar among the stars: "This little Mozart will be shaped like the rest by the common stamping machine.
The airport in his place of birth, Lyon, is named after him. "Il etait une fois." once upon a time, as Saint Exupery's wonderful, classic book reminds us, there was a fear, but also the thrill of flying, and pioneering new routes for the "mail planes" of the `20's and `30's.The author mastered the technical skills, but also the art of flying.
This little Mozart is condemned."Saint-Exupery is most famous for his children's classic, also of potential and loss, "The Little Prince." This book is a most worthy complement for adults, particularly those who have fought the hardening of their own clay. Men will die for a calcined, leafless, stony mountain.
The nomads will defend to the death their great store of sand as if it were a treasure of gold dust. The author lived as he wrote, perhaps taking one too many chances.
Overall, an excellent read, even if you are stuck in the middle seat.
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