Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
Aug. 10th, 2007 06:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sub_dividedOtherwise known as the book I was carrying around during the Harry Potter party, accidentally got face paint on, and was forced to buy. Which isn't to say that I wouldn't have read it, just that I would probably not have bought it. As silly as this is going to sound, I like to feel like I'm paying for an appropriate number of words when I buy a book, and The Alchemist is just not long enough. Plus, it's a "best seller phenomenon" -- meaning, the author doesn't need my money. So, I'd just as soon read it in-store or take it out at the library.
On to the the book. The Alchemist is a deeply spiritual book, which is I think what made it so popular. The trick here, and what Coelho manages beautifully, is that while it supports a kind of transcendent spirituality -- all things are God, those following their dreams follow Personal Legends, whereon they must listen to their Hearts, and to the Soul of the World -- it's also quite specific. The narrator, a Catholic from Andalusia, recounts stories of Christian saints and medieval Christian kings, but also spends most of the story traveling across North Africa in the company of Muslims, and the book's best anecdotes are specifically Islamic.
Very broadly, The Alchemist is the story of a literate (meaning that he is able to read, not that he necessarily does) Spanish shepherd on the trail of his Personal Legend, which in this case means that he is traveling to Egypt, because he dreamed that he'd find treasure buried in the sand near the Pyramids. Along the way, he works for a crystal merchant, learns Arabic, joins a caravan, falls in love, meets The Alchemist, is robbed -- three times! -- and learns to listen to the Soul of the World. On the face of it, his dream is absolutely insane, but because he believes in it and is willing to give up everything to obtain it, the world conspires to help him.
Not everything in this book worked for me, but the passages that worked, really worked. Stories of men poorer than the crystal merchant, who left on pilgrimage anyway, and years later managed to reach Mecca? Powerful stuff. And of course you can't beat romance, adventure, and visions in the desert. I also liked that Santiago doesn't spend every moment consulting magic omens: a lot of his motivation is internal, and it's a bit easier to believe in miracles when the miracle in question is an ordinary event, like two stones falling from a hole in a pouch to land on the ground, which is correctly interpreted, than to believe in a world where everyone will receive instructions from 200 year-old Alchemists and immortal Kings.
On the other hand, the whole Personal Legend thing is insane. It's one thing to maintain that God Created all Things, Including Visions, So Always Follow Your Dreams and another to stretch that into a guiding philosophy that everyone should follow. If you follow the reasoning too far, you run into problems like: what if you're someone who's not as resourceful as Santiago? What if you have a physical or mental disability? What if you have a family to support? ...What if you're a woman? Forgive me if I say that this book isn't particularly kind to women. (Aside from Santiago, the only other named character is Fatima, the woman he loves and who loves him, too. Fatima is a "woman of the desert" which means that she understands that "men must go away in order to return" and that she'll wait patiently until he does return.)
There's also the part where if you are pursuing your Personal Legend, everything else -- including other people -- exists to in order to help you fulfill that Legend. Essentially, those people become accessories to your story. Woe to the people whose Personal Legend is to aid others more important than themselves! They are doomed to become secondary characters in other people's stories.
Anyway, quibbles. It's a beautifully written story, albeit one that peddles an idiosyncratic worldview. (Though actually, that idiosyncrasy was part of what made the book attractive -- maybe I didn't buy into the book's inspirational message (even if I had, it wouldn't have applied to me), but I enjoyed the immersion. Up to a point, anyway.) I also really enjoyed the desert-y bits.
On to the the book. The Alchemist is a deeply spiritual book, which is I think what made it so popular. The trick here, and what Coelho manages beautifully, is that while it supports a kind of transcendent spirituality -- all things are God, those following their dreams follow Personal Legends, whereon they must listen to their Hearts, and to the Soul of the World -- it's also quite specific. The narrator, a Catholic from Andalusia, recounts stories of Christian saints and medieval Christian kings, but also spends most of the story traveling across North Africa in the company of Muslims, and the book's best anecdotes are specifically Islamic.
Very broadly, The Alchemist is the story of a literate (meaning that he is able to read, not that he necessarily does) Spanish shepherd on the trail of his Personal Legend, which in this case means that he is traveling to Egypt, because he dreamed that he'd find treasure buried in the sand near the Pyramids. Along the way, he works for a crystal merchant, learns Arabic, joins a caravan, falls in love, meets The Alchemist, is robbed -- three times! -- and learns to listen to the Soul of the World. On the face of it, his dream is absolutely insane, but because he believes in it and is willing to give up everything to obtain it, the world conspires to help him.
Not everything in this book worked for me, but the passages that worked, really worked. Stories of men poorer than the crystal merchant, who left on pilgrimage anyway, and years later managed to reach Mecca? Powerful stuff. And of course you can't beat romance, adventure, and visions in the desert. I also liked that Santiago doesn't spend every moment consulting magic omens: a lot of his motivation is internal, and it's a bit easier to believe in miracles when the miracle in question is an ordinary event, like two stones falling from a hole in a pouch to land on the ground, which is correctly interpreted, than to believe in a world where everyone will receive instructions from 200 year-old Alchemists and immortal Kings.
On the other hand, the whole Personal Legend thing is insane. It's one thing to maintain that God Created all Things, Including Visions, So Always Follow Your Dreams and another to stretch that into a guiding philosophy that everyone should follow. If you follow the reasoning too far, you run into problems like: what if you're someone who's not as resourceful as Santiago? What if you have a physical or mental disability? What if you have a family to support? ...What if you're a woman? Forgive me if I say that this book isn't particularly kind to women. (Aside from Santiago, the only other named character is Fatima, the woman he loves and who loves him, too. Fatima is a "woman of the desert" which means that she understands that "men must go away in order to return" and that she'll wait patiently until he does return.)
There's also the part where if you are pursuing your Personal Legend, everything else -- including other people -- exists to in order to help you fulfill that Legend. Essentially, those people become accessories to your story. Woe to the people whose Personal Legend is to aid others more important than themselves! They are doomed to become secondary characters in other people's stories.
Anyway, quibbles. It's a beautifully written story, albeit one that peddles an idiosyncratic worldview. (Though actually, that idiosyncrasy was part of what made the book attractive -- maybe I didn't buy into the book's inspirational message (even if I had, it wouldn't have applied to me), but I enjoyed the immersion. Up to a point, anyway.) I also really enjoyed the desert-y bits.