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A review by dawndeydusk
The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
5.0
I have wanted to read this book for a long time. I carried it with me from suburbs to dorm to apartment to apartment. I always put it next to The Catcher in the Rye and Freakonimics because of the orange covers, and I always placed it on top. I've looked at this book for years, but now I actually see it.
I think that this is one of those rare, universal works. Like The Little Prince. As I read this, I was almost brought to tears many times, not because of sadness but because I felt a bit of void being filled in with each passing word. A whole and complete silence, like from the desert so beautifully described in this book.
I have a scarab tattooed on my left arm. It took me almost 5 whole years to get it. I first saw it on a bottle of nail polish at H&M. I encountered it spelled in French in a magazine as I was cutting up magazines for a collage collection. I found it on a sweater on Etsy. I encountered it in a book I somewhat dislike: She. It was right around reading that novel that I got the tattoo, not entirely spontaneously but still by chance. By fortune. By intending to come in with a deposit, only to be offered a spot instead of a booking date because someone else canceled last minute. And now, on my arm, it's a companion of the one I found on the very pages of my copy of this book (page 165, to be exact).
I think that this is one of those rare, universal works. Like The Little Prince. As I read this, I was almost brought to tears many times, not because of sadness but because I felt a bit of void being filled in with each passing word. A whole and complete silence, like from the desert so beautifully described in this book.
I have a scarab tattooed on my left arm. It took me almost 5 whole years to get it. I first saw it on a bottle of nail polish at H&M. I encountered it spelled in French in a magazine as I was cutting up magazines for a collage collection. I found it on a sweater on Etsy. I encountered it in a book I somewhat dislike: She. It was right around reading that novel that I got the tattoo, not entirely spontaneously but still by chance. By fortune. By intending to come in with a deposit, only to be offered a spot instead of a booking date because someone else canceled last minute. And now, on my arm, it's a companion of the one I found on the very pages of my copy of this book (page 165, to be exact).