The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran (pub. 1923)
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This came out like 52 years before I was born, and it was apparently very popular. But I don't recall having heard of it until 2014, when an animated film based on the book was made. It sounded like something I'd want to see, maybe, but so far I haven't had the chance. However, I read the book in 2016, because I happened to see it at a book sale the local library was having. And now that I've read it, I'm less sure I want to see the movie. I suppose I'd probably like it better than I did the book, but I still don't know if that's saying much. I really wanted to like the book, and I guess it started out okay, but after awhile it kind of lost me. I probably wouldn't have finished it if it were a long book. But even as slow of a reader as I am, I'm sure I could have easily finished it in a day, that's how short it is. (But it still ended up taking me two weeks... though I think only three or four days of actual reading.)

So, there's this prophet named Almustafa, who has spent the past 12 years living in a city called Orphalese. I don't have a clear idea of what he did while living there, but it's clear that the locals all love and respect him a great deal. The story begins on the day he's supposed to leave the city, to return to his homeland. He spends the day answering the questions of various townsfolk. His answers are all very philosophical and flowery, and his style of speaking seems to me to be reminiscent of any number of other prophets, from pretty much any religion, or any New Age philosopher, for that matter. His answers to simple questions were so full of metaphors that I didn't always know quite what he was talking about. But when I did, I suppose I liked what he had to say well enough. At least, for awhile. In some of the later questions, I started thinking his answers were so abstract as to be virtually meaningless, at least in any practical sense. And sometimes I even actively disagreed with what he said. Not that there was anything wrong with it, necessarily, if we lived in an ideal world full of perfect people, but of course we don't. A lot of his advice, I believe, is just plain wrong, for most people who live in the real world... especially for people who are truly oppressed, whether based on race or gender or class or anything else. (I couldn't help but wonder if I would have liked the book a bit more before I got really interested in social justice, but I suspect I probably would have still realized some of his philosophy would only really work in a world without discrimination, let alone basic physical necessities.) Anyway, in the end he says a fond final farewell to the people of Orphalese, boards his ship, continues making his farewell, before finally allowing the sailors (whose patience he appreciated) to set sail. Also I should say, the first and last questions came from a "seeress" named Almitra, who I gather was his best friend in the city. And the last line of the book, after Almustafa has left, is Almitra reflecting upon one of the last things he had said.

And that's all I can think to tell you. There isn't really a story, just a bunch of mostly unpractical philosophy, none of which is really original. And some of it I would go so far as to call "hippie-dippy," a phrase I generally don't care for, because I've never had anything against hippies. You know, peace and love and all that, they're great things. But it doesn't do much good trying to implement such ideals while completely ignoring real world problems that don't go away just because you spout some idealistic poetry. Honestly, though, I do feel like I'm being a bit too harsh on the book. Maybe I would have liked it better in 1923. Or the 1960s, for that matter. Even now, I will reiterate that I did agree with some of it. And I wish we lived in a world where the philosophy in this book would be more practical. (Although even if we did, there would still be a few bits in the book that I'd probably disagree with.)