The Little Prince’s Sentiments

When I first read The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery in elementary school, I became terrified of growing up; of becoming obsessed with figures, of only caring about money and economy and politics. How could I forget about the roly-polies and butterflies in the garden, and reading my favorite Sunday comics in the newspaper? But this fear of mine seemed to have gradually and subtly become a reality without my notice; several years ago, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep after watching a horror movie because my mind would play tricks on me, making me see grotesque creatures in the dark, or frightening shapes in my periphery. But just recently, I realized that horror movies no longer scared me the way they used to; I would forget about the jump scares in just a couple hours, and move on with life, monotonously, as if I hadn’t been affected at all by those two hours of intense adrenaline rush. It made me feel like the adults that the Little Prince had encountered, the adults who felt less and were only concerned with “matters of great consequence.” I didn’t like it—so I decided to re-read the story of the Little Prince, and remember the emotions and thoughts I had had as a child. It was then that I realized why it was important that teenagers read young adult books, while adults read children’s books.

The Little Prince is neither exclusively a children’s book, nor an adult book. It’s adorned with pictures that one would see in a children’s book, and it seems to be written so simply. But the meaning behind these simple words go so much further—issues of childhood, adulthood, loneliness, friendship, love, and loss are all brought up through the Little Prince’s excursions. And the criticism of adults is so apparent that maybe this book was meant for adults to read, so that they could be reprimanded for interpreting the world only through figures, rather than through the intangible beauty of nature and emotion. Ultimately, it is a children’s book, written for adults to remind them of how they saw the world as children.

The Little Prince lives on a small planet, with only himself, his sheep, and a rose that he loves and takes care of. But upon discovery of the rose’s vanity and conceit, he decides to leave his planet in search of a new one. The rose cries because she did love him too, but her pride causes her to support his leave. Throughout his travels, the Little Prince explores various planets, all of which contain a greedy king, a conceited man, a drunkard who drinks to forget that he is ashamed to be drinking, a businessman who only cares about the number of stars he owns, and a geographer who reminds the Little Prince that his beloved rose is defenseless and ephemeral. The Little Prince wants to befriend someone, but he does not want to befriend anyone he meets on the other planets because they only think about themselves and hold meaningless occupations. The last planet is Earth, which, the narrator points out, is filled with millions of old kings, conceited men, drunkards, businessmen, and geographers, all adults. There is nobody who the Little Prince would consider befriending on Earth because it is filled with those who have forgotten what is beautiful and meaningful.

Perhaps this a representation of the state of the real Earth; that so many people grow old and forget about how much they cared about the caterpillars, or how they believed the raindrops on the car window were racing each other. Instead they start to care more about the prices tagged onto items, how much profit they can gain, how the politics will affect their economic lives. It’s true that they have to care about these things, as they become independent and have to make a living. However, people have the tendency to neglect things that they feel are not as important. A tree may be uprooted in order to make room for an electrical generator. An old beloved library may be demolished in order to make room for a profitable bookstore chain. They no longer care about trees and old libraries because they have forgotten about the sentimental value in the midst of striving for monetary success.

Maybe horror movies will never have the same everlasting impact on me again; maybe I’ve just grown out of it. But what’s important is that I don’t forget to hold on to what I can’t see—hold on to how alive I had felt during and after the movie when I was a child, and remember that I can feel for things that I don’t even really see. Sentimentality is invisible; you can’t tangibly see it, and that’s why it can be so easy to forget. Like the tamed fox said to the Little Prince, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”