Revisiting The Little Prince

It is no secret that my favorite book, my personal bible even, is The Little Prince by Antoine de St. Exupery. Back in high school, my love for the book practically reached an obsession. I used its philosophy to justify not studying for the SATs. I used its many translations to help me master Spanish, French and later on German. My valedictory speech at high school graduation was even about the philosophy of this book, along with Winnie the Pooh and Our Town.  It gives me no end of pleasure to see mashups of The Little Prince and Dr. Who or Star Wars beginning to make the social media circuit, but my connection with Antoine de St. Exupery's words is so much deeper than that.

Why do I love my Little Prince so much? Well, every time I read or reread the book, I gain new insights about myself and the people I love. The words console me when I am nostalgic and make me hopeful when I feel like my mission is impossible.  The sheer simplicity of its children's book format is misleading; I have read it over three hundred times and am still learning.

This week, I was feeling homesick so I picked up my comfort go-to book and saw the story from brand new eyes. It must be my current research on the Holocaust, but for the first time I allowed myself to think of Le Petit Prince as a product of its time period. I began to do some research and I thought I'd share these new insights here.

First of all...the dedication of this book is a bit non-traditional. Here, take a look.

In my younger days, I simply marveled at how precious it was that the author celebrated a child within each adult. I even connected the dedication with the grand message: "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye."  Every adult has a child within, and as a teenager resisting growing up, this thought gave me solace. But this week, I wanted to know more about Leon Werth. Why was he hungry and cold and in need of cheer?  Who was he? And... what happened to him?

                                 

From these photos, perhaps you can see that Leon was a bit older than Antoine. In fact, he was a generation older. Leon Werth was an "assimilated Jew" who used his writing to promote Bolshevism and pacifism. He wrote in a surrealistic style and didn't have too much in common with St. Exupery. But, when they met in the early 1930's, they connected deeply. Some of the texts I read implied that Leon was a strong mentor for the aspiring author and young aviator. They didn't have many years together, but the time they shared had a profound impact on both men.

So, why was he cold and hungry? I wrote above that he was an "assimilated Jew". (I don't like that phrase, hence I put it in quotes. I am all about self-definition and assimilation feels at odds with my values. I would word it more that he had Jewish heritage but that he lived a secular life.) When France was defeated by Germany, though, it didn't matter if he was assimilated or secular; his life was in danger. He escaped to the canton of Jura and Switzerland and from there, he wrote a long and strong text called Deposition, in which he condemned The Vichy government. Back in Paris, he and his wife had kept their apartment as a safe house for those in need, including downed pilots and fleeing Jewish women. They worked on creating false identity papers and holding secret resistance meetings, too, but once France fell, he made for the mountains and survived.

                                 

Antoine, though, did not hear from his friend. Wartime communication was a challenge, and St. Ex was also in transit. After France's fall, he didn't want to stay in his homeland anymore and thus headed to Portugal.  Apparently, many people went to Portugal while awaiting their visas to the U.S. or other safer zones. While in this waiting zone in 1940, Antoine wrote "Lettre à un ami", later retitled "Letter to a Hostage". This philosophical memoir/ platonic love letter was directed to Léon Werth, and many of its pages are direct precursors of what he would write in The Little Prince.

Here is a segment from my copy of the book:

                                         

This celebration of friendship is also a celebration of "otherness". Antoine and Leon were of different generations and of different political philosophies, but they connected, just as the Rose and the Little Prince ( or the Fox and the Little Prince) would connect in his fable. "You just see the Human in me."  The Nazis were unable to see the human in people they hunted down. Violence of that wrecks humanity, and St. Ex saw the power of friendship to see and even restore humanity to those in need. And yet, he did not know how or where his friend was. 

Ironically, after going to the U.S., after writing the story for which he is most famous, after making a break from war-torn France and doing his best (not enough) to help make the case for US involvement in the resistance, Antoine de St Exupery decided to return to France, where he died on a mission in North Africa. His book was published posthumously and Leon Werth found out about his friend's death around the same time he received his copy of the book with its poignant dedication. My heart sinks when I think about Leon holding Le Petit Prince in his hands for the first time, knowing he would never see Antoine again.  His famous line, after the war ended, was "Peace, without Tonio, isn't entirely peace."

I'm sure that after the war there were many names -- and too many nameless -- who could be filled into that sentence. Peace, without Anne Frank, isn't entirely peace. Peace, without Hannah Senesh, isn't entitle peace. Peace, without Emmanuel Ringelblum, isn't entirely peace. Peace, without the unnamed soldiers, Roma people, homosexuals, resistance fighters, handicapped people, children, families, lost lives, isn't entirely peace. Not at all.

                                                  

Which brings me to one last thought, for today, on Le Petit Prince.   In all of my previous readthroughs of the book, I thought that the Baobobs represented laziness. If you didn't clean up after yourself, you would make a mess. If you didn't clean up after yourself for a long time, the mess would get bigger. It's easier to take care of smaller messes than big ones. It's easier to tend a small Baobob than three giant ones which are tearing the world apart.

Giant Baobobs tearing the world apart. As an airman for France in the prewar era, he saw the seeds of Nazi terror when they were planted. From afar, helping out the resistance in the US, he began to see the effects of these now-grown seeds tearing the world apart in war. I will never think of Baobobs without shuddering from now on.

                                         

Thank you, St. Exupery for helping me become me!!!