2008 Woodie Awards
In My Book: The Celestine Prophecy
Kerry Sullivan
Issue date: 2/5/05 Section: Arts & Entertainment
In My Book: The Celestine Prophecy
Deep within the mystifying rain forests of Peru, and guarded by a wary clergy, there lies an ancient manuscript containing nine key insights to human psychological and philosophical evolution dating back to the beginning of civilization. According to author James Redfield in his self-dubbed "adventure story" entitled The Celestine Prophecy, once humans understand these nine insights in relation to their behavior and life experiences, a higher consciousness will be achieved - in essence, earthly civilization will become "a completely spiritual culture."
Sounds kind of far fetched, right? Not to mention extremely vague. From page one, Celestine didn't appear to be a promising read. I wasn't satisfied with Redfield's musings on "heightened perceptions," "spiritual unfoldings," "mysterious happenings," and "a new consciousness for humankind." I wished that he could have typed out a neat list to summarize the nine insights in chronological order, or at least provided clearer explanations. If Redfield felt so passionately about the elusive manuscript and about bringing its message to his readers, why did he choose to withhold details that would have made the insights more accessible, and consequently, his book more readable? Why did he instead fill his pages with long paragraphs of flowery language about "positive psychological contagions" that, I must admit, I often only skimmed and eventually opted to skip altogether?
It didn't become clear to me until several tedious chapters later why Redfield wrote Celestine as such a vague, detail-lacking book that almost lost me as an even remotely interested reader by page ten. According to the manuscript written back during the ancient Aztec civilization, each insight must not only be grasped sequentially, but also understood through experience. That made sense to me - humans tend to learn and retain new information better if they experience it, rather than simply hear it. But understanding Celestine's structure didn't do anything to improve its standing, in my book.
Deep within the mystifying rain forests of Peru, and guarded by a wary clergy, there lies an ancient manuscript containing nine key insights to human psychological and philosophical evolution dating back to the beginning of civilization. According to author James Redfield in his self-dubbed "adventure story" entitled The Celestine Prophecy, once humans understand these nine insights in relation to their behavior and life experiences, a higher consciousness will be achieved - in essence, earthly civilization will become "a completely spiritual culture."
Sounds kind of far fetched, right? Not to mention extremely vague. From page one, Celestine didn't appear to be a promising read. I wasn't satisfied with Redfield's musings on "heightened perceptions," "spiritual unfoldings," "mysterious happenings," and "a new consciousness for humankind." I wished that he could have typed out a neat list to summarize the nine insights in chronological order, or at least provided clearer explanations. If Redfield felt so passionately about the elusive manuscript and about bringing its message to his readers, why did he choose to withhold details that would have made the insights more accessible, and consequently, his book more readable? Why did he instead fill his pages with long paragraphs of flowery language about "positive psychological contagions" that, I must admit, I often only skimmed and eventually opted to skip altogether?
It didn't become clear to me until several tedious chapters later why Redfield wrote Celestine as such a vague, detail-lacking book that almost lost me as an even remotely interested reader by page ten. According to the manuscript written back during the ancient Aztec civilization, each insight must not only be grasped sequentially, but also understood through experience. That made sense to me - humans tend to learn and retain new information better if they experience it, rather than simply hear it. But understanding Celestine's structure didn't do anything to improve its standing, in my book.