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catiavra 's review for:
O Alquimista
by Paulo Coelho
The Alchemist tells the mystical story of Santiago, an Andalusian shepherd boy who yearns to travel in search of a worldly treasure. One day he finds the courage to follow his dreams into distant lands, each step galvanised by the knowledge that he is following the right path: his own. The people he meets along the way, the things he sees and the wisdom he learns are life-changing.
I don’t believe the original version has a subtitle but the English translation added one and it is: A Fable About Following Your Dream. This says a lot about this book. The Alchemist reads like a parable and the message that Coelho tries to convey in this book is that each of us has a Personal Legend (our own path, our dream) and if we’re brave enough to pursue it, then the Universe will conspire to help us get there. I am trying to avoid rolling my eyes at what I’ve just written. Yes, I may be a cynical but this is also a dangerous message, especially when people might resort to The Alchemist for self-help. If Coelho says that every single one of us has a dream, what happens to all the people who feel lost and can’t really identify their own dream? Because that happens, it’s life. Then, according to Coelho, the Universe won’t be there for them and they will never feel fulfilled and happy.
The Alchemist also took me right away to my Postcolonial studies. During that semester, I read Orientalism (1978) by Edward W. Said, in which the author explains how the West creates patronizing representations of ‘The East’ - societies who inhabit the places of Asia, North Africa and the Middle East. Well, let’s just say that The Alchemist perfectly mirrors Said’s idea. Santiago, the shepherd, leaves Andalusia and goes to North Africa, looking to find the pyramids of Egypt, a place constantly depicted as fascinating, exotic, mystical, etc.
Then, the representation of women is incredibly poor - as it is the entire book, to be fair. There’s one part where Fatima, a woman Santiago meets, is crying and he asks (my translation): are you crying? To which, she answers something like: “I am a woman from the desert, but above all, I’m a woman”. You see where I’m heading, right? “Women cry/men don’t cry. Why do women cry? Because we are so sensitive. I mean, we’re women. It’s our condition!” Now, I am definitely rolling my eyes.
And, then, I don’t think the writing is simple. I think it’s just poorly-written. I understand why some people said they had enjoyed this book as teenagers but they wouldn’t necessarily enjoy it now. It’s a book that can seem inspiring, especially if you’re young. But, well, this is how I felt about this book!
For more reviews, follow me on instagram: @booksturnyouon
I don’t believe the original version has a subtitle but the English translation added one and it is: A Fable About Following Your Dream. This says a lot about this book. The Alchemist reads like a parable and the message that Coelho tries to convey in this book is that each of us has a Personal Legend (our own path, our dream) and if we’re brave enough to pursue it, then the Universe will conspire to help us get there. I am trying to avoid rolling my eyes at what I’ve just written. Yes, I may be a cynical but this is also a dangerous message, especially when people might resort to The Alchemist for self-help. If Coelho says that every single one of us has a dream, what happens to all the people who feel lost and can’t really identify their own dream? Because that happens, it’s life. Then, according to Coelho, the Universe won’t be there for them and they will never feel fulfilled and happy.
The Alchemist also took me right away to my Postcolonial studies. During that semester, I read Orientalism (1978) by Edward W. Said, in which the author explains how the West creates patronizing representations of ‘The East’ - societies who inhabit the places of Asia, North Africa and the Middle East. Well, let’s just say that The Alchemist perfectly mirrors Said’s idea. Santiago, the shepherd, leaves Andalusia and goes to North Africa, looking to find the pyramids of Egypt, a place constantly depicted as fascinating, exotic, mystical, etc.
Then, the representation of women is incredibly poor - as it is the entire book, to be fair. There’s one part where Fatima, a woman Santiago meets, is crying and he asks (my translation): are you crying? To which, she answers something like: “I am a woman from the desert, but above all, I’m a woman”. You see where I’m heading, right? “Women cry/men don’t cry. Why do women cry? Because we are so sensitive. I mean, we’re women. It’s our condition!” Now, I am definitely rolling my eyes.
And, then, I don’t think the writing is simple. I think it’s just poorly-written. I understand why some people said they had enjoyed this book as teenagers but they wouldn’t necessarily enjoy it now. It’s a book that can seem inspiring, especially if you’re young. But, well, this is how I felt about this book!
For more reviews, follow me on instagram: @booksturnyouon