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Jonathan Livingston Seagull (1970)

by Richard Bach

Other authors: Russell Munson (Photographer)

Other authors: See the other authors section.

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11,328206561 (3.6)157
Because he spends so much time perfecting his flying form instead of concentrating on getting food, a seagull is ostracized by the rest of the flock.

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» See also 157 mentions

English (172)  Spanish (9)  Italian (7)  German (2)  Portuguese (Portugal) (2)  Dutch (2)  Catalan (2)  French (2)  Turkish (1)  Hebrew (1)  Czech (1)  Lithuanian (1)  Norwegian (1)  All languages (203)
Showing 1-5 of 172 (next | show all)
This story is a cute reimagining of the Christian story of Jesus, using a seagull who aspires to an existence beyond the simple gathering of food. It was published in the 1970’s - a leftover artifact of the hippy free love revolution the late 60’s, and while there’s a nice story about morality and the value of perseverance, it’s fairly shallow. Still, for what amounts to an elaborate short story, I found it entertaining and engaging and something worth reading. ( )
  nakedspine | Nov 16, 2023 |
Not the earth shattering "this is the bestestest/my most favourite as a child/ I live by this book" book I had suspected or heard it to be.[return][return]I can see where there are points for deeper thought than I am currently ready or willing to give it - lots of areas for "stand out from the crowd" "dont be restricted by thought", "follow your dreams", (Is he really the messiah/Son of Gulls?") type questions that I am currently not in the place to follow up or entertain. Glad to have read it, but wont be delving deeper into its no doubt worthy and deeper questions and subject matter. ( )
  nordie | Oct 14, 2023 |
I went through a serious Richard Bach phase in my twenties. Not sure what I think about him now. But I will always love J.L. Seagull. ( )
  Kim.Sasso | Aug 27, 2023 |
Excelente historia, muy motivadora ya que va en la búsqueda de superarse en cada obstáculo y luchar por cumplir los sueños. ( )
  mahebelen | Aug 25, 2023 |
A strangely touching story of a bird. ( )
  mykl-s | Aug 12, 2023 |
Showing 1-5 of 172 (next | show all)
Fernão Capelo Gaivota é uma proposta de superação às nossas limitações. Uma crença na força que provém do nosso mundo interior. Em cada um de nós existe um Fernão Capelo Gaivota…

» Add other authors (40 possible)

Author nameRoleType of authorWork?Status
Bach, Richardprimary authorall editionsconfirmed
Munson, RussellPhotographersecondary authorall editionsconfirmed
Bean, TomCover designersecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Kauppi, KaijaTranslatorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
Paolini, Pier FrancescoTranslatorsecondary authorsome editionsconfirmed
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To the real Jonathan Seagull, who lives within us all
First words
It was morning, and the new sun sparkled gold across the ripples of a gentle sea.
By sunup, Jonathan Gull was practicing again. From five thousand feet the fishing boats were specks in the flat blue water, Breakfast Flock was a faint cloud of dust motes, circling. He was alive, trembling ever so slightly with delight, proud that his fear was under control. Then without ceremony he hugged in his forewings, extended his short, angled wingtips, and plunged directly toward the sea. By the time he passed four thousand feet he had reached terminal velocity, the wind was a solid beating wall of sound against which he could move no faster. He was flying now straight down, at two hundred fourteen miles per hour. He swallowed, knowing that if his wings unfolded at that speed he’d be blown into a million tiny shreds of seagull. But the speed was power, and the speed was joy, and the speed was pure beauty. He began his pullout at a thousand feet, wingtips thudding and blurring in that gigantic wind, the boat and the crowd of gulls tilting and growing meteor-fast, directly in his path. He couldn’t stop; he didn’t know yet even how to turn at that speed. Collision would be instant death. And so he shut his eyes. It happened that morning, then, just after sunrise, that Jonathan Livingston Seagull fired directly through the center of Breakfast Flock, ticking off two hundred twelve miles per hour, eyes closed, in a great roaring shriek of wind and feathers. The Gull of Fortune smiled upon him this once, and no one was killed. By the time he had pulled his beak straight up into the sky he was still scorching along at a hundred and sixty miles per hour. When he had slowed to twenty and stretched his wings again at last, the boat was a crumb on the sea, four thousand feet below.
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Because he spends so much time perfecting his flying form instead of concentrating on getting food, a seagull is ostracized by the rest of the flock.

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Average: (3.6)
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