My thoughts on Steppenwolf
Nov. 2nd, 2009 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esmenet
Let me show you them. :D
I have mixed feelings about this book, because I don't actually like it.
(Or perhaps it would be better to say I didn't enjoy it, because I do like it a bit.)
Let's get this straight; I'm not dismissing its value as literature, nor its value to me. It's a very interesting book, with quite a bit to say. I just couldn't really enjoy reading it. I didn't like Harry Haller, or Hermine -- although I did like Pablo and Maria, the last of whom I felt got a bit shortchanged. I had to force myself through about half the book, hoping to myself that it would go back to talking about something interesting instead of Harry being stolidly unlikeable.
It did, of course, as Hesse books seem to; Pablo appeared, and things got better from there. I also quite liked the transition-y bit where Harry Haller went from being enclosed in his solitary world of academic-ism to being enveloped by the reaching one of jazz music and artsy-ness, even if a lot of it took place during the bits I forced myself through.
The one place it really wins is the end, though. Slight spoilers! (And by spoilers I mean talking about what happens on the last two or three pages, because that's really the only thing you can be spoiled for at all.) Just the fact that he is unable to overcome the limitations of his own personality, for all his efforts -- and the fact that he recognizes that, and he's going to try again and again until he can. This is where Demian let me down, because Emil never really changed himself at all and was always to the last following his titular mentor.
Although I like most of Demian better than I like most of Steppenwolf, I think I may like Steppenwolf better overall, because the main character is actively trying to change, to become more. This is the difference between Demian and Steppenwolf, perhaps. Demian is about finding oneself; Steppenwolf, about growing.
Quotes time!
Pablo: But, you see, I am a musician, not a professor, and I don't believe that, as regards music, there is the least point in being right. Music does not depend on being right, on having good taste and education and all that.
Harry: Indeed. Then what does it depend on?
Pablo: On making music, Herr Haller, on making music as well and as much as possible and with all the intensity of which one is capable.
"Gentlemen, there stands before you Harry Haller, accused and found guilty of the wilful misuse of our magic theatre. Haller has not alone insulted the majesty of art in that he confounded our beautiful picture gallery with so-called reality and stabbed to death the reflection of a girl with the reflection of a knife; he has in addition displayed the intention of using our theatre as a mechanism of suicide and shown himself devoid of humour. Wherefore we condemn Haller to eternal life and we suspend for twelve hours his permit to enter our theatre. The penalty also of being laughed out of court may not be remitted. Gentlemen, all together, one-two-three!"
And lastly, the end, the beautiful end of this book:
One day I would be a better hand at the game. One day I would learn how to laugh. Pablo was waiting for me, and Mozart too.
I have mixed feelings about this book, because I don't actually like it.
(Or perhaps it would be better to say I didn't enjoy it, because I do like it a bit.)
Let's get this straight; I'm not dismissing its value as literature, nor its value to me. It's a very interesting book, with quite a bit to say. I just couldn't really enjoy reading it. I didn't like Harry Haller, or Hermine -- although I did like Pablo and Maria, the last of whom I felt got a bit shortchanged. I had to force myself through about half the book, hoping to myself that it would go back to talking about something interesting instead of Harry being stolidly unlikeable.
It did, of course, as Hesse books seem to; Pablo appeared, and things got better from there. I also quite liked the transition-y bit where Harry Haller went from being enclosed in his solitary world of academic-ism to being enveloped by the reaching one of jazz music and artsy-ness, even if a lot of it took place during the bits I forced myself through.
The one place it really wins is the end, though. Slight spoilers! (And by spoilers I mean talking about what happens on the last two or three pages, because that's really the only thing you can be spoiled for at all.) Just the fact that he is unable to overcome the limitations of his own personality, for all his efforts -- and the fact that he recognizes that, and he's going to try again and again until he can. This is where Demian let me down, because Emil never really changed himself at all and was always to the last following his titular mentor.
Although I like most of Demian better than I like most of Steppenwolf, I think I may like Steppenwolf better overall, because the main character is actively trying to change, to become more. This is the difference between Demian and Steppenwolf, perhaps. Demian is about finding oneself; Steppenwolf, about growing.
Quotes time!
Pablo: But, you see, I am a musician, not a professor, and I don't believe that, as regards music, there is the least point in being right. Music does not depend on being right, on having good taste and education and all that.
Harry: Indeed. Then what does it depend on?
Pablo: On making music, Herr Haller, on making music as well and as much as possible and with all the intensity of which one is capable.
"Gentlemen, there stands before you Harry Haller, accused and found guilty of the wilful misuse of our magic theatre. Haller has not alone insulted the majesty of art in that he confounded our beautiful picture gallery with so-called reality and stabbed to death the reflection of a girl with the reflection of a knife; he has in addition displayed the intention of using our theatre as a mechanism of suicide and shown himself devoid of humour. Wherefore we condemn Haller to eternal life and we suspend for twelve hours his permit to enter our theatre. The penalty also of being laughed out of court may not be remitted. Gentlemen, all together, one-two-three!"
And lastly, the end, the beautiful end of this book:
One day I would be a better hand at the game. One day I would learn how to laugh. Pablo was waiting for me, and Mozart too.
