(No cover image today, because it creeps me out, and I don’t want to remind myself of either the creepiness of the cover, or the crappiness of the prose.)
The Prophet
Kahlil Gibran
1923
96 pages
Published by Alfred A Knopf and purchased by me, to my everlasting shame.
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Hamburger’s dad is a musician, and a bit of a snob about music. Whenever he hears any type of alternative or rock music from pretty much the 1980s on, he’s notorious for saying “That’s just crap.”
And that’s a pretty accurate summary of how I felt about this book.
I know that many people love this book. It was our book club choice for October, and one person in particular just raved about it. And it’s not that I don’t think people should love one another and be kind and help each other. I totally do. I just don’t need it phrased like this:
You were born together and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Ay, crap.
And then there’s this:
When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to muse.
Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?
Dude obviously didn’t work for a government agency.
And finally, one last torturous excerpt…
Like the ocean is your god-self;
It remains for ever undefiled.
And like the ether it lifts but the winged.
Even like the sun is your god-self;
It knows not the ways of the mole nor seeks it the holes of the serpent.
But your god-self dwells not alone in your being.
Much in you is still man, and much in you is not yet man,
But a shapeless pygmy that walks asleep in the mist searching for its own awakening.
And of the man in you would I know speak,
For it is he and not your god-self nor the pygmy in the mist, that knows crime and the punishment of crime.
To say I didn’t like this book would be a massive understatement.
They say this is considered the first self-help book. I enjoyed it, but when I read books like this one (or The Alchemist, or Siddhartha), I have to distance myself from the book a little so that I don’t get overwhelmed by the cheesiness, and then just take it for what it’s saying, not necessarily for the words themselves. If that makes sense. So I definitely appreciated this one, but not for the writing, haha!
If I’d heard the self-help thing, I never would’ve read it! And this doesn’t bode well for Siddharta, which is on the shelf.
Yeah, probably not for me either.
Glad to spare someone else the agony.
This has me laughing so hard. This is the type of book I read at age 21 in, probably stoned or something and thought it was SO deep and meaningful. Now my review would probably read much like yours. Too funny…
Hah…so THAT was my problem!
Hahaha omg, I love that you share my cynicism at poetic language. UGH. I honestly didn’t even read your whole post, because the second I saw words like “heaven” and “wings” and “dance” put together, I just said No.
Cynics unite!
Haha! I bought this book when I was teenager, I’m not sure exactly why. Yet that spiritual awakening eludes me. Maybe this is one of those books you have to be high to appreciate, like those Carlos Castaneda books?
Amanda certainly thinks so.
After that intro, I just had to look up the cover. You are dead right, super creepy face. If I were to read it, I’d have to put a paper cover on that sucker. Reading the excerpts that you posted made me realize I have absolutely no desire to read this. Not for me. It reminds me of the Alchemist in poem form. Ugh!
I loathed The Alchemist, too!
I hate to tell you this but I used one of the parts you quoted during my wedding ceremony. : )
I knew someone would say that!!
UGH, no thanks!
I’m giggling. I would giggle the entire time I read this. Perhaps an eye-roll or two thrown in.
What? What did you say? Ay, my wind-self was playing a tune celebrating that kimchi I ate at lunch. Not only that, it celebrated cabbages all over Korea, but the storm drowned out your wisdom that was playing a flute of truth while coming out of the mist or ether or something.
I’ve never been able to get through this one…
Too funny. AND did you share your loathing at book club or did you just keep silent and nod your head a lot?
I found this at my parents’ house a few years ago and HAD to read it. I gave it 3 stars, so can I put myself in Amanda’s camp about distancing myself? More of a cultural experiment or something. Some books you have to read so you can say you read it. [Note: it wasn't owned by my parents but was part of my uncle's stuff.]
I have to confess I skipped book club (had to pack!), but I know there were others who hated it as much as I did!
This sounds sooooooo bad! But I loved your review of it. So scathing and spot on!
Oh no, it sounds like this book was just totally weird and pretentious, and I had trouble even dealing with the small excerpts that you posted! I can totally see why you didn’t like this one. I can tell you straightaway that it’s not for me. Thanks for the candid thoughts and the well deserved snark!