I was given this book when I was a child, and of course, I didn't know what the hell this guy was talking about. I got lost in all his symbolism and it made me feel too stupid (a recurring feeling). Boxes, planets, asteroids, snakes, weird men, baobabs. I re-read it later, and I loved it. As I grew older, I learned how to appreciate the gift of symbolism. It all may seem nonsense, at first, but some books deserve a second chance to see it is all there: the essence of the author, what he is trying to say. It makes me wonder, it makes me think, it makes me want to punch the writer right on his face because I don't understand why the heck he doesn't write in a straight-forward manner. But I end up enjoying those complications.