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A review by littlemiao
Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
2.0
I wanted to like this book. I expected to like it, since several people whose opinions I respect consider it a meaningful and transformative story. I feel slightly guilty for disliking a book so concerned with transcending limitations, the power of positive thinking, self-actualization and all manner of ostensibly worthwhile things. The photos were the only good thing about the book. They were a blissful reprieve from the heavy-handed, moralizing text.
I like more subtlety with my allegory.
For the first part, I was preoccupied with visualizing the contortions of Jonathan Livingston Seagull as he soared across the pages, blindly pursuing perfect flight and risking his own life and the lives of his fellow gulls for that dubious goal. The blind pursuit of perfection usually amounts to self-destruction, but Jonathan Livingston Seagull was spared that eventuality by spiritual transcendence. How fast can gulls really fly? What would happen if they tried to dive 10 feet below the ocean surface for fish? And why disparage scavengers, who perform an ecologically vital role? I know that’s not the point, but for me, the story raised more questions about bird physiology and marine ecology than about the meaning of life. Gulls fly the way gulls fly; why do they have to fly “better”? They wouldn’t be gulls anymore.
The last two parts of the book focused less on physical limitations and more on spiritual potentials. It was hard to see past the insufferable air of superiority that the supposedly transcendent inevitably assume. Jonathan Livingston Seagull is not just a prophet, he is a bodhisattva, a savior, bearing a message that is all the more condescending for his patient delivery: If you can’t transform your obstacles away with positive thinking, then you’re just not trying hard enough.
I like more subtlety with my allegory.
For the first part, I was preoccupied with visualizing the contortions of Jonathan Livingston Seagull as he soared across the pages, blindly pursuing perfect flight and risking his own life and the lives of his fellow gulls for that dubious goal. The blind pursuit of perfection usually amounts to self-destruction, but Jonathan Livingston Seagull was spared that eventuality by spiritual transcendence. How fast can gulls really fly? What would happen if they tried to dive 10 feet below the ocean surface for fish? And why disparage scavengers, who perform an ecologically vital role? I know that’s not the point, but for me, the story raised more questions about bird physiology and marine ecology than about the meaning of life. Gulls fly the way gulls fly; why do they have to fly “better”? They wouldn’t be gulls anymore.
The last two parts of the book focused less on physical limitations and more on spiritual potentials. It was hard to see past the insufferable air of superiority that the supposedly transcendent inevitably assume. Jonathan Livingston Seagull is not just a prophet, he is a bodhisattva, a savior, bearing a message that is all the more condescending for his patient delivery: If you can’t transform your obstacles away with positive thinking, then you’re just not trying hard enough.