I do think this is the greatest children’s book (no exaggeration). I read obsessively as a child, but this is one book that I have never forgotten. I remember his adventures, his impressions, his loneliness, his curiosity – and as an adult I now see how European children classics have small and large meanings embedded in them, because I love it for other reasons now. I also watched the cartoon growing up, and it equals the book in my opinion. I am already planning on buying this book for my little niece, who will not be born until Spring 2008!

When I read it I was wondering almost all the way through… “what is so great about this that some consider it a classic?” I admit I found hard to keep interested in it, as each (short) chapter seemed to hint at something, a globally-shared condition of humanity; appearing only to say more by leaving things unsaid.

I got impatient until the last 2 or 3 chapters when it all seemed to tie up together, and then I realised – so this is why.

It didn’t strike me down with the force of understanding (like Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, or the flashes of insight (like Richard Bach’s Jonathan Livingston Seagull), or even blinding literary succour (e.g. Clarissa Estes’ Women Who Dance With the Wolves), but worthy still because it doesn’t pretend to be anything it’s not: a story for children, entertaining and stimulating in and of itself.

But for adults, there’s always a little bit more. Final verdict: Read.