Book Review: Wind, Sand, and Stars (1939) by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I liked this book so much I don't even know where to begin. Hell, I don't even know if I have the language right now, at this moment, to properly express the impression this book has made upon me. I don't think I've ever, ever felt so deeply spoken-to by a book in my life.

You may recognize the name Antoine de Saint-Exupery as the author of the legendary children's book The Little Prince. This book, Wind, Sand and Stars, however, is not a children's book. On the contrary, it is very much a book for grown adults. It is a deeply philosophical, almost haunting examination of the human spirit and the human condition, set over the back-drop of Exupery's adventures flying with the French air-mail service or Aeropostale in the 1920s and 1930s.

This book is essentially a collection of autobiographical stories about Exupery's and his comrades adventures and mis-adventures in the early days of aviation. We're talking about the days when airplanes did not even have radios in them and the pilot's main system of navigation was to look out their window and try to spot landmarks. Flying a plane in these days took serious guts. Exupery, it seems, was put into enough hair-raising, life-threatening situations that he became, if nothing else, deeply philosophical.

The airborne adventures are really just a vehicle (no pun intended) for Exupery to expound on his broad and expansive ideas on human nature and the human spirit, on what makes men friends, and on what makes men men. The answers might surprise you.

In the process you will crash in the Sahara desert with Exupery and his mechanic and nearly die of thirst as you attempt to walk out of the seemingly endless sea of sand. You will make the dangerous crossing over the Andes mountains with one of Exupery's dearest friends, the legendary pilot Guillaumet, and nearly die several times as you crash into the snow and barely escape with your life, on foot. You will face winds so strong they nearly shake your aircraft to pieces over the course of hours in which your arms go completely numb from the vibrations of the steering apparatus. And you will make numerous night flights in which the only navigational tool you have, your only friends in the world, are the stars.

One slight warning: This book is so deep at times that it may seem inaccessible. You may have to read and re-read parts of it several times over, in order to grasp what Exupery is saying. You also may not, IDK. My point is, this is probably not the kind of reading you're used to doing. But stick with it. I promise that once you get on board with Exupery's style, you will be well-rewarded.

It is truly a shame Exupery did not live longer than 44 years because I think if he'd had even 10 more years his literary achievements could have been monumental.