The Little Prince was like a many tiered cake or some such dessert like that. There were all these little nuggets of wisdom hidden deep within the simple lines and pictures that exploded in the brain only a good while after I had finished the book.
The Little Prince is at first deceptively simple, it is such a childlike book with words and drawings that will endear themselves to you and lacing this seeming childishness is an undercurrent of pure insight that few readers will be hard pressed to understand. This is not so much a review as a sort of note on the book. Of all the books I have ever read, it is The Little Prince that baffles me. I can't seem to grasp it's soul quick enough or strong enough to write a nice meaty review. I have read it over half dozen times and each time some new aspect of it strikes me. And I take that idea to examine it only to find it blurring away to be replaced by another one, the next time I read the book.
The little prince and the unlikely friend he makes of the pilot stranded in the desert are a kindred pair. They hit it off immediately, from the moment the prince recognizes the pilot's boa constrictor, you know that there is something special about this little boy, and about the book. Through them both, you learn to hate baobabs, learn wisdom from a fox, learn to handle the vanities of the prince's rose and to fall in love with it too and most of all, learn about the idiosyncrasies of man.
It is a strange, slightly disturbing nevertheless enjoyable journey and as you travel with them, you will learn valuable lessons on love, passion and loyalty. The end might bewilder you and break your heart just a little bit, but that is only because like the pilot, you have grown to love the little boy who has come such a long way from his home planet.
Read The Little Prince and enjoy it in your own way. In the end, you will also be on the lookout for the little boy with golden hair.