Review: The Little Prince / El Principito by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

I read this in English and in French as a child, and now I've read it in Spanish as an adult. As a first book to read in a foreign language, I think it was a pretty good pick. There are some more unusual words and some poetic phrases, but the words and phrases often repeat themselves, which makes for good practice.

When I read it as a child, I think I hadn't quite grasped that the prince committed suicide (or, elective snake-assisted dying, I suppose). Or perhaps it is that now I am an adult, and I see drawings as hats and not as snakes that have eaten elephants.

The childlike perspective of the world and of adult concepts are pretty, as is the prose. It's a rather bleak view of the world, in the end. The world is filled with men who try to own the stars and are so busy counting them and trying to enrich themselves with them that they don't enjoy them. People are narcissistic, relish power but do nothing with in, enslave themselves to useless rules, rush around busily and without taking joy from the roses around them. Even the little drawing of a lamb, which seemed so charming in the first few pages, now seems a little dark. Why was it kept in a box? Why did it need a muzzle?

I like the parable of the fox. That, to form a bond with someone makes them special to you, and that you have a responsibility towards them. But even the bonds the prince forms with the fox and with the pilot aren't quite enough to keep him alive.

The last words of the book are, ironically, "¡no me dejen tan triste!"

It did indeed leave me sad.

Review: Catwings by Ursula K. Le Guin

Mrs Jane Tabby could not explain why all four of her children had wings.

"I suppose their father was a fly-by-night," a neighbour said, and laughed unpleasantly, sneaking round the dumpster."

"Maybe they have wings because I dream, before they were born, that I could fly away from this neighbourhood," said Mrs Jane Tabby.

I loved this little tale. So much fun Ursula Le Guin-style social commentary woven into a really cute story about kittens with wings. Not a word nor a sentence out of place.

I liked best the outrage of the birds at discovering cats that dared ascend into their ranks (and the lack of sympathy felt by the mouse towards the birds — "you could try tunnels").

Insofar as books about animals leaving their homes in search of a better life elsewhere go, this one is so much better than Watership Down — from a narrative perspective, from an allegorical perspective, from a feminist/not-misogynist perspective — that I can't believe anyone bothers reading the latter.

The fish in the creek said nothing. Fish never do. Few people know what fish think about injustice, or anything else.