Sunday

it's been a good day so far.. bought lots of music, played scrabble with john and ate some cookies. gave a few people a call, bought some books, wished that i never had another responsibility again.
what do we do for new years? go to alex's? go with john? call michael? nothing? who's to say... anyhow i need some pictures taken of me. any takers?

Tuesday

Worlds Within: Major influences on Hermann Hesse

More than forty years after his death, Hermann Hesse’s work is as influential today as when it was published. Throughout his novels, he presents his deeply personal sentiments for the entire world to see. After making himself vulnerable to the reader, Hesse reflects the life of the reader with stunning fluidity and eventually, bestows upon them a long awaited conclusion, usually a message of hope. Given his exemplary writing ability, Hesse would need some form of drive to create such colorful verbal tapestries.
After careful analysis of several of Hesse’s major works and numerous secondary sources, it is safe to assume that he drew mainly from experience. This thesis will utilize three of Hesse’s major works, his autobiography and several major biographies to prove that Hesse did, indeed, write from experience. Many of the conclusions drawn are the author’s own, which are fully supported by the aforementioned text.
Many of Hesse’s works are borderline autobiographical, touching on spirituality, frustration, and self-discovery drawn almost exclusively from significant periods of his own life (Field, 13). These experiences, along with an admirable dedication to the pursuit of knowledge and a substantial familiarity with the works of literary giants, were the main influences on Hermann Hesse and his contributions to the literary world.


I. Hesse’s Life
“There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside them for reality and never allow the world within to exert itself.” -Hermann Hesse

If a man wants to thoroughly understand Hesse’s writings, he must first take a look at his life. Because the two are so closely connected, having knowledge of Hesse’s upbringing would make the messages he conveys more concrete.
Hesse was born July 2, 1887 in Calw, Germany to a former protestant missionary of India and daughter of an Indian missionary (Tusken, i). As was the custom, Hesse attended school in preparation for the statewide examination. At the age of 14, Hermann passed with little trouble and was accepted to Maulbronn University, a state funded school of the highest caliber (Field, 16). Although he was very bright, formal education depressed Hermann. After only seven months, he had a nervous breakdown and ran away to commit suicide. Fortunately, he reevaluated his choice and returned unharmed (Ziolkowski, 6).
Troubles continued at school, and Hesse’s father eventually let him drop out. He returned to Calw and took up an apprenticeship at a clock factory from 1894 to 1895 (Ziolkowski,6). As an apprentice, Hesse gained perspective on the mentality of small-town workers and their hardships.
Because he was no longer a student, Hesse had time to read what he saw fit, and as a result, headed directly for his grandfather’s vast library. Here, he was reintroduced to the world literature of his childhood, rich with world myths and legends. Hesse also took advantage of his father’s library, full of German literature from Goethe to Novalis (Hesse, Autobiographical, 5).
In 1895, Hesse took an apprenticeship at Hackenhauer’s bookstore in Tubingen. For the next three years, he would study literature, history, art history, and philosophy independently. It was at this time Hesse began his true writing career, meeting regularly with a circle of fellow writers known as the petite cenacle (Tusken, iii).
In 1899, Hesse published two works; a collection of poetry and a series of prose sketches (which his mother detested). In the same, year, Hesse moved to Basel, Switzerland and was employed at a bookstore. His mother died in 1902. Hesse did not attend the funeral (Tusken, iii).
After the release of his first novel, Hesse became a literary success. He married Maria Bernoulli in 1904 and moved to Gaienhofen where they had three children together (Tusken, iii).
Hesse continued to write novels, most of which do surprisingly well. After the birth of their third son, Hesse and Maria began to experience marital problems.
Due to his pacifist nature and Swiss citizenship, Hesse was accused of draft dodging at the beginning of World War I. To prove his loyalty to Germany, Hesse opened an office in Berne to assist the German Embassy. From this office, Hesse translated books for German prisoners of war. Constant criticism and overwork stressed Hesse and Maria. In 1916, Hesse returned to Germany for his father’s funeral.
In 1919, Hesse commits himself to an asylum and is treated by Dr. J. B. Lang, a disciple of C. G. Jung. The result of their sessions together is the novel Demian, published in 1919 under the pseudonym Emil Sinclair (Tuskin, iii).
In 1920, Hesse moved alone to Montagnola and began work on an Indian novel. After a few attempts and self-analysis, Siddhartha was published in 1922 in its entirety and became immediately successful.
From 1924 to 1927, Hesse is married to Ruth Wenger. During this time, Hesse realized he was an idealist and that life was nothing he thought it should be. He attempted to integrate his ideal and reality. As a result, Ruth divorced him shortly thereafter (Ziolkowski, 29).
Hesse married his third wife, Ninon Dolbin, a Viennese art historian in 1931. The two built a home in Montagnola where they spent the rest of their lives.
During the rise of the third Reich, Hesse sheltered and assisted German artist refugees. Many of Ninon’s Jewish friends and family disappeared and Hesse’s works were declared undesirable in Germany (Tusken, iii).
In the last twenty years of his life, Hesse received formal recognition for his contributions: the Goethe Prize and Nobel Prize for Literature in 1946, and the Nobel Peace Prize in 1955.


II. Hesse’s Literary Works
“All my works can be interpreted as a defense (sometimes also an anguished cry) of the individual.” Hermann Hesse

Due to the magnitude of Hesse’s collected works, it is virtually impossible to do a complete, in-depth analysis of each. Therefore, this essay will analyze three of Hesse’s major novels. Beneath the Wheel, Demian, and Siddhartha compliment each other well and best reflect Hesse’s autobiographical style of narration. The stories unfold to reveal cross-sections of Hesse’s life and eventually show how the literature reflects Hesse’s experience.
Within these works, there are three predominant themes that tie the works together chronologically. Intellectual sacrifice, duality, and unity, are married perfectly in each of the novels and are reflexive of Hesse’s ideals, ever present in his writing.
Most of Hesse’s protagonists are, like himself, misunderstood intellectuals who feel alienated from a world that they are expected to play a role in (Ziolkowski, 5). High expectations, social deprivation, and continuous self searching often lead to hostile depression, which can be perceived as the thesis of life. The protagonist generally goes through a period of restless searching only to find the answers were there all along, and that he must sort out the complications for himself.
The search leads the protagonist to a crossroads where he must struggle with every aspect of so-called reality: of good and evil; light and darkness; the antithesis of life. This duality is a primary theme in most of Hesse’s works (Freedman, 87). The protagonist is surrounded by characters representing possible futures and must ultimately decide which elements of this reality he chooses to assimilate into his own.
The conflict is resolved in an incredible way: instead of choosing only one, the protagonist assimilates characteristics of many aspects of life and total unity is the ultimate resolution. In fact, life becomes a synthesis of all.


A. Beneath the Wheel, Introduction to Metamorphosis

One of Hesse’s first novels, Beneath the Wheel has been described as “an indictment of the adult world” unleashed to ease the suffering inflicted upon Hesse in his youth (Mileck, 34). The story serves as the thesis of the selected novels in that it adequately explains the first part of the transformation: what Hesse was (Mileck, 34).
Distinctly autobiographical, Beneath the Wheel tells of Hesse’s early school years and experience at Maulbronn.
The protagonist, Hans Giebenrath is a literary projection of Hesse. He is studious and respectful, ever eager to learn. His name reflects the incredible amounts of personal tutoring Hesse endured as a child (loosely translated from high german, Gieben means to give, while Rat is to advise or council). Geibenrath is assigned Hesse’s same dormitory. He loves Latin, Homer and history just as much as his creator(Hesse, Autobiographical, 27). Geibenrath is the docile, pre-breakdown Hesse that the other boys know as a grind.
Hans Giebenrath also has a duality to his nature. While attending Maulbronn, he befriends a strange poet named Hermann Heilner. While Giebenrath is determined and obedient, Hermann Heilner is the rebellious, frustrated Hesse. Giebenrath is the Hesse who has the breakdown, who goes to work in the machine shop.
Geibenrath wishes he could possess a piece of his new friend. Heilner wrote his exam essay in verse, like Hesse. Heilner plays violin and writes poetry, doesn’t study, wanders through the woods. While Giebenrath is the Hesse who dies, the wholesome prodigy who commits suicide in hopes of achieving peace; Heilner (whose name is loosely translated as the healer) survives, assimilates, and becomes independent. This assimilation is key to understanding the strong connection between Hesse’s life and novels. “Giebenrath is what Hesse was, and Heilner is the person he had to become if he was to make anything of his life (Mileck,36).”
This absorption of character shows the duality of human nature, though still incomplete in his life and early works, Hesse’s transformation.


B. Demian, The Adolescence of Hesse’s Self Realization

Demian is the direct product of 72 analytical sessions with Jungian disciple J. B. Lang (Field, 43). After Hesse’s nervous breakdown, he sought assistance to ease his mind and the result was more than he’d expected.
For Hesse, Demian was the start of a whole new artistic form. Having acquired an interest in the concepts of good and evil, sparked by his monographs on Boccaccio and St. Francis of Assisi (Mileck, 55), Hesse began to question the validity of the archetypical sinner and saint beginning the development his own antithesis. Under the guidance of Dr. Lang, Hesse discovered dichotomy of the nature of good and evil and used themes of androgyny to test his conflicting emotions.
In the fall of 1917, Demian was born. Published as the autobiographical work of Emil Sinclair, the novel allowed Reality and Ideal to become blurred, putting the theme of duality to the test.
During his analysis, Hesse has become fascinated with theories of Jungian unconscious. He plays with the concept of ambiguity throughout the novel: man-child Demian; man-woman Eva; each character ageless, genderless; where everyone is part of the collective unconscious, pure Jungian philosophy (Field, 51).
Each of the character is a significant part of ideal Jungian unconscious, playing major roles in Hesse’s life and work. In the case of this novel, each character’s purpose can be extracted from the names Hesse chose.
Emil Sinclair, whose name is an Anglo French combination of the words “sin” (without) and “clair” (clarity), is a prodigal son whose mind is studded with uncertainties. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair were the archetypically stern father and loving mother, the people Hesse saw as guides to the light world.
Sinclair’s antagonist, Kramer (loosely translated as Krum: rubbish, filth) uses a small lie against him and as a result, Sinclair is cast forever from the world of his family. Eventually, he slips into depression, just as Hesse did after leaving the world of his devoutly Protestant family (Mileck, 91).
Demian is a Socratic daemon, an interpretation of one of Hesse’s childhood hallucinations, “the little man” constantly urging him on (Hesse, Autobiographical, 12). He is also Sinclair’s savior, an ironic Christ figure and reflection of Hesse’s ideal self. Demian speaks of Cain, the marked man of the bible, as a revered hero. To Sinclair, this interpretation of his parents’ religion is frightening, but, like Hesse, he ventures forth to test the theories of homogeny.
Sinclair also encounters a less intense teacher. Pistorius is actually a literary interpretation of Dr. Lang. Many of the talks between Sinclair and Pistorius were taken from sessions (Mileck, 91).
Both Demian and Pistorius guide Sinclair toward the myth of Abraxas. Abraxas represents rebirth through self-destruction, moral androgyny. After Sinclair accepts this idea, worlds open to him like never before.
Where Sinclair was once the follower of Pistorius, so now has the young scholar Knauer (similar to the German Knäuel: tangle, gnarl) come to learn from him. Sinclair then realizes, in order to help or be helped, one must be attuned to his inner self (Field, 51).
Demian’s mother, Frau Eva, is the personification of Jungian “anima,” the soul, ideal life, fullness. She becomes to Sinclair the mother of all things (like Eve in Genesis, also the mother of Cain).
As the novel goes on, Sinclair absorbs traits from each of the characters, becoming closer to the ideal, closer to Demian. As each character is assimilated, they disappear from the story. They have served their purpose and are no longer needed. Though Sinclair, like Hesse, was closer to embracing duality, he was not quite ready for it. Sinclair knows self-discovery is possible, that one need only push the limits.
The idea has been raised and nurtured, but not yet fully developed. Thesis, or instinct; and antithesis (Kulturzustand, or disharmony between obligation and desire) have been created, and Hesse is closer to discovering the key to absolute unity, das Ideal, where everything is consciously balanced (Field, 48).


C. Siddhartha, Concluding the Journey

Siddhartha is the synthesis of Hesse’s lifelong struggle for self realization. The story was inspired by a dream character, one who hauntingly whispered to Hesse that pain and suffering are illusions created by the individual (Morris, 25).
The mood Hesse set was one of Indian mysticism. Traditional Hindu, Brahmin and Buddhist ideas help to convey the plight of Hesse’s confusion (Mileck, 162). Siddhartha is a man searching vainly for the things that have been with him all along.
Siddhartha and Demian have much in common. Both are symmetrical Bildungsroman (educational novels), showing experience of daily nature in the style of Altersstil, the symbolic, reduced irony of Germans in their later years (Ziolkowski,45). Demian and Siddhartha also show in the 3rd sections that the thesis and antithesis have synthesized in a perfect union (Ziolkowski,30).
Broken into three sections, Siddhartha is a novel that caters to the entire being, mentally, physically, and spiritually. The first four chapters are dedicated to the mind. On one side of the river, Siddhartha realizes he is dissatisfied with his father’s way of life, just as Hesse felt. He leaves the land of his father with Govinda, a childhood friend, to become a wandering ascetic. After hearing that the Enlightened one is near, the two cross the river in the boat of a ferryman.
Crossing the river signifies a new beginning and so the next four chapters are dedicated to the body. Siddhartha admired the Buddha, but sees that he too, must find his own way to enlightenment. He casts off the life of ascetic and becomes a man of the world. Like Hesse, Siddhartha slips deeply into worldly materialism and becomes hopeless. He runs away from this life, hoping to leave it behind.
As for the final four chapters of the great Indian novel, Hesse had trouble writing them. He stopped writing before Siddhartha was enlightened because he had not been enlightened himself. The story modeled his experiences, drawn from life and inspired by the trips to India and his family ties (Ziolkowski, 27). In order to finish, he needed to change his perspective. Although the novel was beautiful, as a story it was flawed: Deus ex Machina was overused and secondhand information created gaps in the flow (Ziolkowski, 27).
After self-examination, meditation and another look at Buddhism, Hesse found himself and came to a better understanding of humanity and life. As a result, Hesse was able to complete the book (Mileck, 163). The last four chapters at the river’s edge, Hesse dedicated to the soul (Mileck, 163). Siddhartha assimilates traits of his friends Vasudeva, Govinda, Buddha, and Kamala, as they are life’s possibilities. After the assimilation, each one vanishes (Mileck, 170). Siddhartha, “he who has achieved his goal” (Morris, 28), is at peace. Hesse’s life and work become perfectly synthesized, and he is finally self realized.


III. Conclusion

“There is a constant delicate interaction between Hesse’s life and his writings; the abstractions have no inherent validity, but only the significance that they receive from Hesse’s own experience. His scope as a writer was narrow because he was constantly obsessed with his own personality.” -Ziolkowski

Biographers have noted that Hermann Hesse never wrote beyond experience (Mileck, 96). He didn’t have to. Hesse’s growth as a writer paralleled the development of 20th century literature from aestheticism to engagement (Ziolkowski, 45), challenging his readers to reflect on their own lives and take action.
Hesse realized that everything could be resolved internally through meditation and self-examination. His books were personal tools, chronicles of his life written down for later re-evaluation (Mileck, 159).
Though Hesse may be the “heir of chronic dualism (Ziolkowski, 3)” he was able to recount his life with style, making universal themes ring with timeless beauty. These novels, along with the rest of Hesse’s work, are a window into the mind, body, and soul of a talented man.

Saturday

this was what should have been

[at least in my dreams, when i'm sleeping it seems that the needle is full endlessly...]

for the first time in a long time, my equilibrium has been balanced. things are sweet and calm and even lovely. letters, phonecalls, and sentimental assurances are overcomingly beautiful. thus far, they've been enough to carry me through.
i found you, pedro the lion... you make me cry sometimes. why all the crying? maybe i just need some time to look at everything through wet rings. [here comes the good song... number 6, the instrumental. you know which one i mean.]

often, i find myself wishing that the moment really could just last forever in order that something unpure never be able to dismantle the way i feel. i feel that way about a lot of things. i'd like to be suspended in the feeling of being held in your arms, or in the trail of a passer-by's cologne and handsome smile. i always loved that.

Wednesday

why little girls cry

i hate it when you write something beautiful, and then your fucking computer crashes.

how sad it is to realize how much you have forgotten that you once knew...
but nobody wants to live forever; no one could. and so it is thus decided.
no one will live forever because there isn't any reason to.

who needs those reasons anyhow?

fuck it, i'll live.

Thursday

who's going to the journal times to become a junior journalist?

ooh me! me!