Marie : « I like this picture of you, Antoine. I like to think it’s me to whom you’re writing this letter from New York. And then you seem so light-hearted… A mother feels these things. You have accomplished so many remarkable things in your short life. You have crossed deserts and mountains, crossed borders, reached summits, achieved success and defended civilization against barbarism. But perhaps it is not a letter? … Are you writing this universal story, this tale that has turned the world upside down? It all began when you were six years old. »
Antoine : – « When I was six, I managed with a coloured pencil to sketch my first drawing.
My drawing number 1. It looked like this:
I showed my masterpiece to grown-ups and asked them if they were scared of my drawing. They answered: “Why be scared of a hat?”
My drawing wasn’t a hat. It was a boa-constrictor digesting an elephant. So then I drew the inside of the boa-constrictor, so that grown-ups could understand. They always need explications.
My drawing number 2 looked like this:
The grown-ups advised me to put away my drawings of boa-constrictors, outside or inside. Grown-ups never understand anything on their own, and it is exhausting for children to have to provide explanations over and over again. So I had to choose another career and I learned to pilot airplanes ».
Antoine : – « So I lived alone, without anyone to really talk to, until I broke down in the Sahara Desert six years ago. Something had broken in my engine.
Petit prince : Please … draw me a sheep!
Antoine : What?
Petit prince : Draw me a sheep… »
Marie (amused) : « The Little Prince … how old can he be? Not yet the age of reason, no doubt … follow him, follow the stars that will guide you, don’t leave them … This milky way will take you from the desert to the distant planets, from the earth to the imaginary … in the poetry of Antoine … and his Little Prince … »
Petit prince : « No! No! I don’t want an elephant inside a boa-constrictor. A boa-constrictor is very dangerous, and an elephant would get in the way. Where I live, everything is very small, I need a sheep. Draw me a sheep. ».
Antoine : « So then I made a drawing ».
Antoine: “He looked at it carefully, and then said:
The Little Prince: No! This one is already quite sick. Make another.
Antoine: I made another drawing: My friend gave me a kind, indulgent smile:
The Little Prince: You can see for yourself… that’s not a sheep, it’s a ram. It has horns…
Antoine: So I made my third drawing, but it was rejected like the others.
The Little Prince: This one’s too old. I want a sheep that will live a long time.
Antoine: So then, impatiently, since I was in a hurry to start work on my engine, I scribbled this drawing. And added, « This is just the crate. The sheep you want is inside ». But I was amazed to see my young critic’s face light up:
The Little Prince: That’s just the kind I wanted…
The Little Prince: “Do you think this sheep will need a lot of grass?
Antoine: Why?
The Little Prince: Because where I live, everything is very small …”
Antoine: “It’s just that the planet he came from was hardly bigger than a house! (…) It had two active volcanoes. Which was really useful for heating breakfast in the morning. It also had an extinct volcano (…)
The Little Prince: Isn’t it true that sheep eat bushes?
Antoine: Yes. That’s right.
The Little Prince: Ah, I’m glad. ».
Antoine: « (…) And in fact, on the Little Prince’s planet, there were, as on all planets, good plants and bad plants (…) However, there were terrible seeds on the Little Prince’s planet … baobab seeds. The planet’s soil was infested with them. Now if you attend to a baobab too late, you can never get rid of it again (…)
The Little Prince: “When you’ve finished washing and dressing each morning, you must tend to your planet. You must be sure you pull up the baobabs regularly as soon as you can tell them apart from the rose bushes, which they closely resemble when they’re very young. It’s very tedious work, but very easy”. (…).
The Little Prince: “If someone loves a flower, of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that’s enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself, « My flower is out there somewhere. …”
Antoine: “I think he took advantage of a migration of wild birds for his escape (…). He was in the region of asteroids 325, 326, 327, 328, 329 and 330, so he began by visiting them to keep himself busy and to learn something.”
Antoine: “The first one was inhabited by a king” (…)
The king: “Ah! Here’s a subject”,
Antoine: … the king exclaimed when he caught sight of the Little Prince. And the Little Prince wondered:
The Little Prince: “How can he know who I am when he’s never seen me before?”
Antoine: “He didn’t realize that for kings, the world is extremely simplified. All men are subjects (…). But the Little Prince was wondering. The planet was tiny. Over what could the king really reign?” (…).
The Little Prince: “Sire … over what do you reign?” (…)
Antoine: With a discreet gesture the king pointed to his planet, to the other planets and to the stars…
The Little Prince: “Over all that?” asked the Little Prince.
The king: “Over all that” … the king answered. (…)
The Little Prince: “I’d like to see a sunset… Do me a favour… Command the sun to set.” (…)
The king: “Well, well! replied the king, first consulting a large calendar, well, well, that will be around… around… that will be tonight around seven forty! And you’ll see how well I am obeyed.”
Antoine: The Little Prince yawned (…) then, with a sigh, took his leave.
Antoine: “The second planet was inhabited by a very vain man.
The vain man: Ah! A visit from an admirer!
Antoine: … he exclaimed when he caught sight of the Little Prince, still at some distance. To vain men, other people are admirers”.
The Little Prince: « Good morning, » said the Little Prince. That’s a funny hat you’re wearing.”
The vain man: “It’s for answering acclamations, » the very vain man replied. “It’s to wave when I’m acclaimed …. Clap your hands together … (…)
Antoine: The Little Prince clapped his hands. The vain man bowed modestly as he tipped his hat (…).
The vain man: Do you really admire me a great deal?” he asked the Little Prince (…).
The Little Prince: “I admire you, » said the Little Prince, with a little shrug of his shoulders, « but what is there about my admiration that interests you so much?”
Antoine: And the Little Prince went on his way.
Antoine: “The following planet was inhabited by a drunkard. This visit was a very brief one but it plunged the Little Prince into a deep depression…”
The Little Prince: “What are you doing here? (…)
The drunkard: « Drinking, » replied the drunkard, with a gloomy expression.
The Little Prince: “Why are you drinking? » the Little Prince asked.
The drunkard: “To forget … (…) to forget that I’m ashamed, » said the drunkard, hanging his head.
The Little Prince: “What are you ashamed of? » enquired the Little Prince, who wanted to help.
The drunkard: “Of drinking! » concluded the drunkard, withdrawing into silence for good.
Antoine: “And the Little Prince went on his way, puzzled ».
Antoine: The fourth planet belonged to a businessman. This person was so busy that he didn’t even raise his head when the Little Prince arrived (…)
The businessman: Three and two make five … twenty-six and five, thirty-one. Phew! That amounts to five hundred and one million six hundred and twenty-two thousand seven hundred and thirty-one.
The Little Prince: “Five hundred million what?”
The businessman: “Millions of those little things you sometimes see in the sky…”
The Little Prince: Bees?
The businessman: No, those little golden things that make lazy people daydream. Now I’m a serious person! I have no time for daydreaming.
The Little Prince: Ah, you mean the stars?
The businessman: Yes, that’s it. Stars (…) I own them.
The Little Prince: “You own them?” (…) then he added, « I own a flower myself which I water every day. I own three volcanoes which I rake out every week (…) So it’s of some use to my volcanoes, and it’s useful to my flower, that I own them. But you’re not useful to the stars.
Antoine: The businessman opened his mouth but found nothing to say in reply, and the Little Prince went on his way.
Antoine: The fifth planet was very strange. It was the smallest of all. There was just enough room there for a streetlamp and a lamp-lighter. (…)
The Little Prince: “Good morning. Why have you just put out your lamp?”
The lamp-lighter: “Orders, » the lamp-lighter answered. Good morning. (…)
The Little Prince: “But why have you just lit your lamp again?”
The lamp-lighter: “Orders, » the lamp-lighter replied… (…) “It’s a terrible job I have. It used to be reasonable enough. I put the lamp out mornings and lit it after dark. I had the rest of the day for my own affairs, and the rest of the night for sleeping” …
The Little Prince: And, since then, orders have changed?
The Lamp-lighter: That’s just the trouble! Year by year the planet is turning faster and faster, and the orders haven’t changed!
The Little Prince: Which means? said the Little Prince.
The Lamp-lighter: Which means that now that the planet revolves once a minute, I don’t have an instant’s rest. I light my lamp and turn it out once every minute!
The Little Prince: “This one (…) is the only one who doesn’t seem ridiculous to me. Maybe it’s because he cares about something other than himself.”
Antoine: “The sixth planet was a planet ten times bigger than the last. It was inhabited by an old gentleman who wrote enormous books.”
The geographer: « I’m a geographer, » the old gentleman answered.
The Little Prince: And what’s a geographer?
The geographer: A scholar who knows where the seas are, the rivers, the cities, the mountains and the deserts (…) but I’m not an explorer. (…) A geographer is too important to go wandering about. But he receives explorers. He questions them, and he writes down what they remember. (…) But you come from far away! You’re an explorer! You must describe your planet for me! (…)
The Little Prince: “Oh, where I live, » said the Little Prince, « is not very interesting, it’s so small. I have three volcanoes (…) I also have a flower.”
The geographer: We don’t record flowers, the geographer said, (…) because flowers are ephemeral.
The Little Prince: What does « ephemeral » mean? (…)
The geographer: It means « what is threatened by imminent disappearance. »
The Little Prince: My flower is ephemeral, the Little Prince said to himself (…) And I’ve left her all alone where I live!
Antoine: That was his first impulse of regret. But he plucked up his courage again:
The Little Prince: Where would you advise me to visit? he asked.
The geographer: The planet Earth, the geographer replied. It has a good reputation… »
Antoine: And the Little Prince went on his way, thinking about his flower.
Antoine: The seventh planet then was the Earth (…)
The Little Prince: Who are you? the Little Prince asked. You’re very pretty…
The fox: “I am a fox”, the fox said.
The Little Prince: « Come and play with me, » the Little Prince proposed. I’m feeling so sad…
The fox: I can’t play with you. I’m not tamed.
The Little Prince: Ah, excuse me, » said the Little Prince.
Antoine: But, upon reflection, he added:
The Little Prince: What does « tamed » mean? (…)
The fox: It’s something that’s been too often neglected. It means « To create ties… ».
The Little Prince: To create ties?
The fox: That’s right, the fox said. For me you’re only a little boy like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you have no need of me either. For you I’m only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, we will need each other. You’ll be the only boy in the world for me. I’ll be the only fox in the world for you…
Marie (repeating): “… You will be the only boy in the world for me … Antoine … My son, you shaped your life as a man, on earth as well as in the air, you have crossed the mountains, conquered the desert … and you have recounted all this on pages that we are still turning … Your life is unique in the world…».
Marie: – “The unique man that you are, was very well described by your friend Joseph Kessel, also a writer and aviator … He said, I believe, that unlike many men of poetry and action that he met, you are the only one who is both fully a writer and fully a pilot.” This life as a nomadic aviator has fuelled your talent as a writer. I’ve often thought of that question you’ve been asking yourself and it keeps coming back like a refrain… »
Antoine: – « What can we, what should we say to men?”
Marie: – “The answer lies in your books, in your life that began in a shaded park, your childhood playground.”
Marie: – “Lord knows how you’ve troubled us with your plans, engines and mechanical contraptions of all kinds. All of us in the family have the memory of your bicycle glider and the complicated installation of a ramp to make it take off a few centimetres … All this since the exploits of the American Wilbur Wright … It is true that an hour and a half of continuous flight … in 1908 … there was something to be enthusiastic about! But from there to disobeying me!… Claiming that you had my authorization to make your first flight at only twelve years old, you went too far there Antoine … in a plane made of trinkets and junk! … and a stone’s throw from Saint-Maurice, on the airfield of Ambérieu … It was from that day on that you knew you would make it your career … and that I started to worry. But what can a mother do against a passion that she knows will distance her from a beloved son?”
Marie de Saint Exupéry / Antoine’s mother : They had also invented a sailing bicycle.
Simone / Antoine’s sister : He’d asked our housekeeper, Mademoiselle Marguerite, whom we called Moisy, for (a sheet), and he’d mounted this old sheet on a broomstick, fixed the broomstick to the bicycle and set off downhill, with us brothers and sisters looking on. So off Antoine went.
Marie: I heard that at the end of the park, the bicycle flew into the air! It was his first experience of aviation!
Gabrielle de Saint Exupéry / Antoine’s sister : He entered the dining room, where we’d already been sitting for a long time, like a whirlwind, shouting: “I’ve just flown! Everyone was flabbergasted, and our great-grandmother, who presided over the table and was very strict – we had to be on time for meals – was already very, very upset and started shouting: “This child will kill us and himself.”
Interviewer : Did he have permission to take his first flight?
Gabrielle : I don’t think so. He had permission to go to the field, but our mother certainly hadn’t given him permission to fly.
Marie: – “I remember you joined the future postal air service ‘Aéropostale’ in 1926… because I saw you less often from then on. Risking your life to carry the post from Toulouse to Dakar, that’s typically one of your ideas … only five years into your flying license, a few early flights … I have always admired your courage, that desire to face the elements and overcome your fear.”
Antoine: – “My dear Mum, I’m leaving for Dakar at dawn and I’m very happy about that. I am very sad to leave you, but, you see, I am in the process of making a solid career for myself.”
Marie: – “It is there that you fell in love with the desert, from flying over it, from landing there in conditions that were almost always perilous … Lady Luck has often accompanied you Antoine.”
Antoine: – “The desert for us? It was what was born inside us. What we were learning about ourselves.”
Marie: – “To the point of living there almost alone for eighteen months! Cape Juby… halfway around the world. Airstrip director! …and what an airstrip!
Antoine: – A fort on a beach, our hut leaning against it and nothing for hundreds and hundreds of kilometres (…) It was the absolute bare minimum. A bed made of a plank and a thin straw mattress, a bowl, a jug of water. A room in a monastery.
Marie: – Luckily you also had paper and pen … It was in this hut that Southern Mail was born, your first novel, not to mention the letters you wrote to me. With this book you made the airmail service go down in history and through your humanity at Cape Juby, you earned the esteem of the Moorish tribes that surrounded you, even though they were hostile.
It was through contact with workers, mechanics, fitters and radios that he discovered the nobility of work, the profound resources that would one day bring people together and unite them over their divisions. It was at Cap Juby, and above all there, that Saint Exupéry discovered the beauty and necessity of human relationships. We were experiencing very di cult problems crossing the Rio del Oro. The Moors regarded us as irreconcilable enemies, treated us as such, had killed three of our own, and we had to find a solution in the nature of our relations; we had to humanize them. That’s why I sent Saint Exupéry, who at the time seemed to me to be the best prepared, the most appropriate person to bring together the conditions necessary to make the Moors understand the nature of our action. After a few months in the air, Saint Exupéry so impressed the Spaniards with the purity of our intentions, and the Moors with the nobility of our feelings, that the Spaniards hoisted the tricolor and the Spanish flag every time our planes flew over, On the other hand, Saint Exupéry had succeeded in convincing the Moors that there was more to our aspirations than dropping bombs, and he himself made known sentiments so unknown to these peoples that they literally burst forth in the desert and spread like gunpowder, endearing us to these few thousand Moors in such a way that we were soon able to turn them into collaborators who became interpreters on board our planes.
“During the early years of the Casablanca-Dakar line, when the equipment was fragile, breakdowns, searches and rescues forced us to land often in dissidence.
But sand is deceptive: you think it’s firm, and then you get stuck. As for the old salt pans, which seem to have the rigidity of asphalt and sound hard under the heel, they sometimes give way under the weight of the wheels. The white crust of salt then bursts over the stench of a black marsh.
Dissent added to the desert. Cap Juby’s nights, from quarter-hour to quarter-hour, were cut short as if by the gong of a clock: sentries, from near to near, alerted each other with a loud, regulation cry. The Spanish fort of Cap Juby, lost in dissent, was thus guarded against threats that never showed their faces. And we, the passengers of this blind vessel, listened to the call swell from one to the next, describing seabird orbs over us.
And yet, we loved the desert.”
Antoine: – I am an aviator, ambassador and explorer.
Marie: – And then you left again! …a little further away from me… in Argentina. There you met up with Mermoz again and your dear friend Guillaumet who were crossing the ice-capped mountains of the Andes this time, for this precious airmail … You headed to the southern tip of the continent to face the raging storms of Patagonia, to open new routes, you flew in the place of injured friends… Today Guillaumet was lost in the mountains, you searched for him by plane for hours … He would survive by his own means. You still found the time to write a second novel, Night Flight, whose literary success didn’t please all your aviator friends. They thought that you were trying to show off when all you were doing was highlighting their exceptional human qualities.
Antoine: – … if so, all my life is spoiled if the best of my comrades formed this image of me (…) after the crime I committed by writing Night Flight.
Marie: – I hope that your meeting with your future wife Consuelo, a beautiful Salvadoran artist, eased the pain of this injustice.
Antoine: – “We will flee this cursed plateau, and walk with great strides, straight ahead, until we fall. This is the example of Guillaumet in the Andes that I’m following: I have been thinking about him a lot since yesterday. (…) Once again, we discover that we are not the castaways. The shipwrecked are those who are just waiting! Those threatened by our silence. …
Marie: – Four days without news … without knowing where you and your mechanic crashed … What an idea to want to break records … All right, you have to make a living Antoine … but first you have to live. Four days of agony without water and your Lady Luck, always her, that you went to look for in this desert, always this inspiring desert populated by mirages with blond hair and little foxes with big ears. I dreamt then that you wouldn’t fly anymore… that writing what would become Wind, Sand and Stars would hold you back, but you went back from Casablanca to Bamako, then from New York to Punta Arenas in Tierra del Fuego… This time the news arrived quickly from Guatemala City, your plane in pieces, your body which wasn’t much better… Your last chance, one more time.
3.46: To my great surprise, the first cracking sound, instead of leading to the final crash, continued through the cabin like an earthquake. I was subjected to an uninterrupted jolt of extreme violence that lasted for around six seconds. I didn’t know how to interpret this phenomenon when I experienced the stopping jolt, which was stronger than the others and pulverized the right wing. The plane had stalled on a wooden horse. Prévot and then I jumped out of the plane for fear of fire. Armed with an electric torch, I immediately inspected the ground. It consisted of sand covered with round black stones. No blade of grass, no trace of vegetation. I covered a long circuit, Prévot and his lamp forming a landmark, and finally recognized that I had just stamped the desert. 4.34
5.14 : We covered 60 to 70 km that day, including the return to the plane. At a distance of 35 km, from the top of a ridge, we had seen nothing but mirages that dissolved as we went along. 5.29
5.55: I set off alone, still without water, for new explorations. I walked for 8 to 9 hours at a fast pace. The walk was all the more tiring as, even when the ground was hard, I had to leave tracks for the return journey. 6.08
6.25 : The lack of water was beginning to be hard to bear. So we decided to set off at dawn, abandoning our aircraft and walking straight ahead to the waterfall. It seemed pointless to turn back to the plane, since we were being looked for elsewhere. I remembered Guillaumet, who had saved himself in this way in the Andes, and it was his example I followed. 6.42
7.18 : The next morning, so exhausted that we were only advancing in 200 m steps, we reached a track and were picked up by a caravan. 7.28
Marie: – “And you started test-flying planes, machines that weren’t always up to scratch… as a boy, you were already drawing plans and engines so… no surprise there. You tested, you improved, you invented … Technical and scientific subjects have always fascinated you … more than twelve patents filed, I believe … I’ve heard you talk about electromagnetic waves, beacons, things too technical for me. I’ve heard you talk about the Latécoère seaplane too … another crazy idea, wanting to land on the water, especially with your head in the clouds the way you are.
Antoine: – The sea is part of a world that is not mine. A breakdown here doesn’t worry me, doesn’t even threaten me: I’m not rigged for the sea.
Marie: – There’s hardly any doubt about that, Antoine. And that day when you messed up your landing in the bay of Saint-Raphaël … at the controls of the seaplane you were transporting, you wanted to join us for Christmas at the Château d’Agay … you very nearly drowned! You’ve been a child all your life, trying out grown-up toys, so to speak. »
Marie: – “And I like your curiosity, this keen interest in cinema, propaganda and the press. You sense the importance of the visual image and its power that you will put at the service of aviation and your profession as a pilot. You film, you write a script, a story, dialogues, you travel again … you have in you the impatience of hurried lives. You were so passionate about cinema that your first two novels became films in France and Hollywood. Needless to say, you didn’t let anyone do your stunts for you, even in the riskiest aviation scenes. Chance led you to a meeting with Jean Renoir, director of « La grande illusion » and « La règle du jeu ». He was overwhelmed by the reading of « Wind, Sand and Stars » and wanted to make a film with you …
Antoine: – Dear Jean Renoir, I’m very sorry about Hollywood, not for Hollywood, but for you. You are one of the men on this planet for whom I have the greatest friendship and esteem.
Marie: – A friendship began and that’s what’s essential. It doesn’t matter that the American studios didn’t seize the opportunity, but I have to admit that I would have liked to have seen that film ».
Dear Jean Renoir
I’m going to start telling you about the film. But you know, I feel very intimidated in front of this camera; I remember Dido saying that I’m babbling. I don’t think you’ll understand. I had intended to improvise a little preamble to tell you how happy I’ve been to have spent these few days with you, what a deep friendship I have for you. And then my little preamble, I remain a little dry in front.
Anyway, I’ll try to tell my story. (…) The story begins in Toulouse, at the home of the director of the Compagnie. The young pilot, about to embark on his first courier flight, is given some final advice…”.
Antoine: – « I’m going to show you that I have a fine voice … it’s to make you happy … (Antoine sings a song for around 15 to 20 seconds then it disappears in favour of Marie’s voice, an existing recording done with Jean Renoir)
Marie: – You sing … you do card tricks … you entertain, you charm, you tell endless stories too … stories like the ones I told you and your brother and sisters in Saint-Maurice-de-Rémens. I can still hear your laughter in the park, your frantic running in the storm … you soon became the man of the house after the death of your dear brother. Your father was long gone too, there were only women left around you. You remained true to your childhood as well as to your family and friends. Things seemed more complicated with women.
– Antoine: – I know nothing of the destiny of true love. I get confused by love. I’m disappointing and contradictory. But tenderness or friendship, once they’ve taken root in me, don’t ever stop flourishing there.
– Marie: – Many women have loved you Antoine and you, I have always known you in love, you are capable of many things for love. Only Consuelo married you, but all of them have remained close to you, even in difficult times. I only regret that none of them gave you the child you wanted.
– Antoine: – True friendship, I recognize it because it can’t be disappointed.
– Marie: – First of all it is the friendship of your fellow adventurers, the seductive Mermoz and the humble Guillaumet, your fellow flyer and with them all the fighter pilots in whose midst you felt (…) solidarity. There were those beautiful friendships based on intellectual affinity with outstanding men and women. And finally, there was the friendship of the night outings that ended at dawn by setting the world to rights and proclaiming commitment to lifelong friendships.
Marie: My first memory is of Antoine following me around the park with a little green chair, and every time I stopped, Antoine would sit on his little chair and wait for me to go back. We went round the park like that. He was excessively lively, sensitive, quite unbearable; but then extreme sensitivity.
Simone: He was a lovely child. Delightful. His curly blond hair made a luminous halo, and he was called the Sun King.
Marguerite, governess: He was very good, very kind-hearted; very upright too. He was incapable of any mischief. But he did what he wanted.
Preceptor: The teachers noted that Saint-Exupéry was neither a well-behaved child, nor a heckler, nor a dunce, nor a brilliant student.
One day, at the end of a dinner we’d just had at my place with Jean Renoir, Saint Exupéry handed me a package: the proofs of his next book, Terre des hommes. And with that shyness, that modesty, so moving in a man of his quality, Saint Exupéry asked me to read the proofs and telephone him with my impressions.
The next morning, I gave him an enthusiastic phone call; I was both overwhelmed by the reading of this admirable book and by the con ance Saint-Exupéry had shown me. And really,” he insisted, ”is it publishable? I exclaimed, “But it’s a masterpiece, dear Tonio! “So I’m going to give the go-ahead. He added: “Before publishing a book, I always submit it to a few friends.
A book is always found. A friend doesn’t. And I wouldn’t want to compromise my friendships by publishing a book my friends wouldn’t be proud of.”
Antoine: – “There is only one problem, one problem in the world. Restoring spiritual meaning to men, spiritual concerns.
Marie: – Love, friendship, fraternity, fidelity, solidarity, responsibility, the beauty of the world … These were for you the real struggles that were worth living for. When I reread your books, and all of them have been successful, I find in them this enlightening humanist philosophy that you leave to your contemporaries, full of authenticity and hope. I know the immense work that each of these books required of you and the despair, at times, of your publisher Gallimard, who had to wait and wait for the arrival of a manuscript that you chiselled like a diamond until it seemed perfect to you. Your great friend Léon Werth said of you: « Saint Exupéry the writer raises the natural to the sublime and constrains the sublime to the natural ». You can imagine my happiness on reading that.
Marie: – “In the years preceding that horrible war that was going to take you away, you were a great reporter in the midst of the political turmoil that foretold the woes of men. The newspaper Paris-Soir sent you to the USSR and then on a mission in the middle of the Spanish Civil War, this civil war which you said was more about shooting than fighting. You observed and recounted, cursing ideologies that didn’t know how to protect women and children. In the end, you had little interest in politics … you had vision for what was essential, the spirit of your fellow men … As a mother, I’m still very proud of that.
Antoine: – What torments me is not this misery in which, after all, one settles as well as in a state of laziness. What torments me is not that soup kitchens can’t cure it. What torments me is neither these craters, nor these mounds, nor this ugliness. It’s that a little in each of these men, Mozart is murdered….
Marie: – Only the Spirit, if He blows on the clay, can create Man. There are many quotes from you that I know by heart. I also like this one very much: a truth is not what is demonstrated, it is what simplifies the world.
Antoine: – Don’t you understand that somewhere along the way we’ve gone wrong? The human termite mound is richer than before, we have more goods and leisure time, and yet we are missing something essential that we do not know how to define. We feel less human, we have lost some mysterious prerogatives ».
German propaganda worked with genius, like those American studios where specialized teams invent movie gags. Each time, their teams of publicists set out to solve the following problem: Germany, in order to expand, must absorb such-and-such territory; how can the new claim be presented to the universe in such a way as to confuse it in its logic and hinder it in its conscience? And the team threw out formula after formula. The formulas contradicted each other, but that didn’t matter, because advertising salesmen know that crowds have little memory.
Advertisers rely on Goethe or Bach, and so Goethe or Bach, whom today’s Germany would have rotting in a concentration camp or expelled like Einstein, are used to justify mustard gas and the bombing of open cities. But Pangermanism has nothing to do with enslaving Goethe or Bach, nothing to do with the ideology of the rights of peoples, nothing to do with living space. Pangermanism is the tendency to expand, a tendency that is part of the heritage of all animal species: each race tends to swarm and exterminate the others.
Germany can’t be explained by reasoned ideologies; it doesn’t tend towards expressible goals; Germany’s goals are merely successive focal points, advertising conveniences; Germany’s real goal is simply to increase. That’s why today it’s not just a question of fighting against Nazism or for Poland or for the Czechs or for civilization, it’s a question of fighting first and foremost to continue to exist.
Antoine: – “I’ve always hated being a witness. What am I if I don’t participate? I need to be to participate. I feed off the quality of my comrades, a quality that isn’t recognised, because it doesn’t give a damn about itself…
Marie: – The war is here and there is no question for you to not take part in the fight, whereas everyone wanted to preserve you from it.
Antoine: – We’re all from France as from the same tree.
Marie: – You had to learn how to be a war pilot, you the pioneer of the Aéropostale service… but how to take part without killing other men. So you joined a reconnaissance squadron in charge of spotting and photographing enemy lines … Your comrades, all younger than you, would learn your modesty, your good humour and your card tricks.
Antoine: – I like Group II/33 because I’m part of it, it nourishes me and I help to nourish it. It is my very substance. I’m in the Group. And that’s all there is to it.
Marie: – Three-quarters of you would die during this French campaign, this France that was crushed, burned, buried in the shadows and thrown onto the roads of retreat. Your luck was still in, even on May 23rd, 1940, over Arras … Later, when I read this story in your book « Flight to Arras », I felt that unspeakable fear that must have been yours. And then came the Armistice that you suffered. You were able to come to Agay for a while, it was the last time I saw you, Antoine. And as usual, you left again, to the United States this time. It was on the way that you learned of the death of your dear friend Guillaumet.
Antoine: – Guillaumet was dead, it seemed to me that evening that I had no friends left. I’m the only one remaining from the Casa-Dakar team and from South America, not a single one, not one… There’s a whole life to start over again.».
One hundred and seventy-two.
Understood. One hundred and seventy-two.
One hundred and fourteen.
Understood. One hundred and fourteen.
Captain, they are firing.
(from this point, sounds of flak; rising to a crescendo; then bursting of shells near the fuselage; muffled shocks of shell pieces tearing the fuselage apart)
It’s starting to get ugly, Captain…
Evasive manoeuvres! Captain!
Captain! Heavy fire on the left! Bank hard!
Ah, it’s getting worse….
Ah! Captain. I’ve never seen anything like this…
Dutertre, is it much further?…
… if we could have held on three minutes more, we would have finished… but…
We might get through…
Never!
(A very close hit shakes the fuselage)
Injured?
No!
Ok! The gunner, is he wounded?
No!
Captain!
What?
Tremendous!
Wow, that was something!
(the sounds of the flak fade quickly; they’re out of danger!)
Are you ok, Dutertre?
I’m ok Captain. Two hundred and forty. In twenty minutes we’ll descend below the clouds. We’ll get our bearings somewhere on the Seine.
Is the gunner ok?
Uh … yes … Captain … he’s ok.
Not too close for comfort?
Uh … no … yes.
Marie: – “I know you’ve lived those three years in New York as an exile. Inaction is not your strong suit. You probably felt in the middle of that termite mound the need to talk to the men getting agitated outside your window. So you wrote, drew and painted the story of an encounter between a little blond-haired boy and a stranded aviator in the desert… an adventure you know well. You’d been working on this story for years, trying to figure out how to illustrate it. This tale, which I have reread so many times until it’s hidden in my heart, is not a children’s tale but the tale of a child who questions the adults we have become, without ever lecturing them. He laughs, cries, is indignant and sometimes doubts to the point of despair. These universal emotions will move the whole world, Antoine … and you will never know it. How could you have thought that The Little Prince would thus become the messenger of your convictions… How could you have imagined that he would be the most translated and read French book on this planet…”
Marie: – “Your fame has reached the other side of the Atlantic, Wind, Sand and Stars has preceded you there. You are trying to convince the Americans to go to war with England.
Antoine: – There is no place for me in a world where Hitler would dominate…
Marie: – You take the side of France without political colour but this notoriety is taken advantage of by some and by others, without them sharing your opinions. You’ve never liked it when people decide for you. You were troubled, even though you seemed to be surrounded by French and American friends. I heard that you met celebrities like Charlie Chaplin, Jean Gabin, Marlène Dietrich, Jean Renoir and many others … it must be so rewarding to talk to these people. It seems that you are still writing a lot, Flight to Arras, Letter to a Hostage and a book to which you attach a lot of importance and which would become The Wisdom of the Sands, I can’t wait to read it.
Antoine: – “A cathedral is much more than a sum of stones. These stones are ennobled by becoming the stones of a cathedral. But little by little, I forgot my truth. I believed that mankind sums up men, just as stone sums up all stones. Man must be restored; he is the essence of my culture.” We have slipped, for lack of an effective method, from Humanity, which depended on Man, to this termite mound which depends on the sum of individuals.
Marie: – “At Christmas 1942, I received a copy of « Flight to Arras » recently banned by the German censorship. I don’t know how you managed to get it published in France and have it reach me. So you have that many friends? Now that the United States has entered the war, I imagine you’ll be scrambling to get back into action. Even though I know how important this is for you, I can’t be happy about it. You will be relying on Lady Luck again, Antoine. …”
Marie: – “You rejoined your comrades in Reconnaissance Squadron II/33 in North Africa as I suspected. It’s a waste of time trying to keep you from flying for your country. The French authorities at every level tried to forbid you to fly. They cited your fame, the age limit, your injuries … The Americans, however, granted you a few missions to the south of France but their infrequency rekindled your despair.
Antoine: – I hate myself far too much to wish to return. I am far too uncomfortable in this old tent of my body to care much about this planet. Above all, I have things to prove by my war &…
Marie: – To prove to yourself no doubt. Your squadron followed the Allies northwards, first in Sardinia, then in Corsica. The friendship and trust of your comrades must have been invaluable on your return from your missions. The last one was scheduled for July 18, 1944 before a well-deserved rest … so why did you ask for one last one?”
Saint-Exupéry was not a party man; he used to say, “It doesn’t matter what people say, what matters to me is what they do.”
In a letter from Saint Exupéry reproduced in a book on Saint-Ex by Pierre Chevrier, I found this text that gives you Saint Exupéry’s position. “I will fight for the primacy of man over the individual, and of the universal over the particular.
I believe that the cult of the particular only leads to death, because it bases order on resemblance.
So I’ll fight anyone who tries to impose a particular custom on other customs, a particular people on other peoples, a particular race on other races, a particular way of thinking on other ways of thinking. I believe that the primacy of man is the basis of the only equality and freedom that have any meaning. I believe in equal human rights for every individual, and that freedom is the ascension of man, and that equality is not identity. Freedom is not the exaltation of the individual against man.
I will fight anyone who claims to enslave man’s freedom to an individual or to a mass of individuals.”
Antoine: – “Colgate, here is Dress down number six, may I take off.”
Neutral voice: – “Ok, number six. You can take off.”
Marie: – It’s 8:15 on Monday, July 31, 1944. You take off for this final reconnaissance mission towards Grenoble, then further north to the Ambérieu airfield, where you had your first flight when you were 12 years old. Did you see the grounds? Did you pass over the Château de Saint-Maurice-de-Rémens, the house of your childhood? Did you have time to recognize its shady park on that hot summer day? Did your childhood laughter reach your ears? I wish you could have heard it… What happened to that luck of yours? … Where did it desert you? Now all I can hear is the silence of your absence ».
Marie: – “I’ve kept all of Antoine’s letters. He never stopped writing to me … They came from all over the world … I often read them again « .
Antoine: – « … Tell yourself, my dear mum, that you have filled my life with sweetness like no one else could have done. And that you are the most refreshing of memories, the one that awakens the most in me… »
Marie: – « My dear Antoine … Write and fly, carry these letters at all costs overseas, over deserts and mountains … Letters from a woman to her husband so far away, from a grandfather to his granddaughter who is so close to his heart, from a son to his mother whom he loves … and risk your life for that ..”
The Little Prince: – “I like sunsets. One day, I saw the sun set 43 times! You know, when you’re so sad, you love sunsets… »
Antoine: – « The day of the 43 times, were you really so sad? But the Little Prince didn’t answer. »
Marie: – « The Little Prince never answers questions and never stops asking questions! He is as stubborn as you were, Antoine ».
Antoine: – « You can’t imagine the loneliness you find at 4000 metres, face to face with your engine. I like that, the wind and the struggle, the duel with the storm”.
The Little Prince: – « Men… they run into the rapids, but they don’t know what they’re looking for. So they get agitated and they go around in circles… ».
Antoine: – « We forget in the cities what a man is. Humanity seems to me to be a termite mound … We can no longer live on the contents of our fridges, or by politics, card-games and crossword puzzles, don’t you see? We can no longer live without poetry, colour or love.
Marie: – « It is however in this big city and during this life of exile that you didn’t want, that your imagination gave shape to this Little Prince, blond as corn. The first time I saw the drawing of this little fellow, the memories of our house and its park filled with your smiling laughter flooded back.”
Antoine: – “I am from a country, the country of my childhood. I have a large chest in Saint-Maurice. Since the age of seven, I have been putting in it everything I love, think and remember … It is only this large chest that is important in my life. ».
Marie: – » … and it is in this chest that you also locked up the faded sunsets. And the attic where you looked at the stars through the holes in the roof. Was it the stars you wanted to reach with your bicycle glider? Was it to get closer to them that you flew for the first time in an airplane at the age of 12, without my permission? There are passions that carry you beyond the clouds ».
The Little Prince: – » My star will be for you one of the stars, in that way, you’ll love to look at all the stars… They will all be your friends.”
Antoine: – “I’ve always loved the desert. You sit on a sand dune. You can’t see anything. You can’t hear anything. And yet something radiates silently … It is in the depths of the desert that one truly discovers what it is to be a man. There are mysterious moments that make us grow because we are bound together by a common purpose. It is what causes man to grow that makes man ».
The Little Prince: – « The men where you live grow five thousand roses in the same garden … And they don’t find what they are looking for … And yet what they are looking for could be found in a single rose or a little water … »
Marie: – « This water, you know how rare it is. I was so scared Antoine without news from you for four days when you crashed your plane in the desert. I thought I had lost you … for the first time … ».
The Little Prince: – « What beautifies the desert is that it hides a well somewhere…”
Antoine: – “The essential, most of the time does not carry any weight. The main thing here, on the surface, was only a smile. We are rewarded with a smile. We are motivated by a smile.
Fox: – “But if you tame me, we will need each other. You will be unique in the world for me. I will be unique in the world for you. … Here’s my secret. It’s very simple: you can only see well with your heart. What is essential is invisible to the eyes. »
The Little Prince: – « The essential is invisible to the eyes, » repeated the Little Prince in order to remember.
Fox: – « It’s the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important ».
The Little Prince: – « It’s the time I spent on my rose … «
Fox: – « Men have forgotten this truth, said the fox. But you must not forget it. You become responsible forever for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose. ».
The Little Prince: – « I am responsible for my rose… » repeated the Little Prince, in order to remember…»
Marie: – “And you went down the path of your duty as a man … and I never saw you again ».
Antoine: – “At the moment of my death, as today, there will be only one problem for me: what can we, what should we say to men?”
Marie: – « What you leave them, Antoine … … the rich example of a life of passionate pilot and writer who touches minds and hearts … This concern for others, this love of the earth, the stars and the desert … You leave for them in all your works the perspective of a visionary humanist and you leave to men a little fellow, blond as corn, he also went back to his little planet to take care of his rose … ».
The Little Prince: – “You’ll be sad. I’ll look like I’m dead but it won’t be true.”
Marie: – “Antoine, you didn’t find the body of the Little Prince in the morning like we never found yours, but now I know where you are, I finally know who you are. I now understand the emotion I felt when I saw the first drawings of the Little Prince … this Little Prince is you. He’s the blond child who relentlessly judges the adult you’ve become, I’m so happy you’re friends. So now, when the clouds that you have flown over so many times leave a clear sky, I watch the stars reflect in the sea ».
The Little Prince: – “When you look at the sky at night, since I will be living in one of them, since I will be laughing in one of them, then it will be for you as if all the stars were laughing. You, you’re the one who will have stars that know how to laugh…”
In the story of The Little Prince, in his other writings, in his life itself, Antoine de Saint Exupéry tackles essential questions that we all ask ourselves: responsibility, spirituality, solidarity, humanity, friendship. What significance do these themes have for you today?
That’s what we invite you to think about. In this “Little Prince Workshop”, you’ll discover five short debates at the end of which you can choose how Saint Exupéry’s work resonates with you today. And why not discuss it with your loved ones…