It had been some little time since I had read one of the novels of Hermann Hesse. This would seem strange and even curious, as Hesse remains possibly my favourite writer, a writer whose works were a great source of inspiration and comfort during some troubled and uncertain times in my life. Anyway, other matters, and other books, took hold of my attention and curiosity, although I never forgot the stories of Hermann Hesse, and the way in which they had offered me direction and even new ways of looking at the world and the challenges of life.
In returning to the Hesse canon, I chose first to revisit 'Narcissus and Goldmund'. I recalled the strong and vivid effect which it had on me some years ago, even if the minutiae of the plot and the characters would take time to drift back into my consciousness.
Another thought occurred to me as I retrieved the book from the shelf - I expected it to be a stimulating and beneficial read, but I equally wondered whether my interpretation of, and reaction to, it would be the same as before. I have "moved on" in a philosophical sense, since the period when Hesse's works first came to my close attention (and to my assistance).
Basically, the story centres on the relationship between the two titular characters. Narcissus is a scholarly resident at a monastery, now a teacher and set to ascend the ranks and the hierarchy of the institution. The younger Goldmund arrives as a new student/pupil, and the two eventually establish a friendship. The perceptive Narcissus sees that it is not in his young friend's true nature to live a life of secluded scholarship and study; he is an artist. Without giving too much away, Goldmund subsequently takes his leave of the monastery and embarks on years of adventuring and experiences "on the road".
Apart from the author's perpetual concerns regarding self-discovery and spirituality, a more distinct strand of study emerged, namely that of people's awareness of their true nature and the means by which they uncover their true "calling". In this instance Goldmund had the shrewd and visionary Narcissus to perform this function, but it occurs to me that most of us are thwarted in this regard, our potential and true happiness suppressed or blocked by other people, by social structures and even by ourselves, consciously or otherwise. The question, of course, of whether we each have a "destiny" is a whole subject on its own...
Must of us have no figure such as Narcissus, to help us to see what our potentially most rewarding and satisfying future course is. Our true talents and gifts remain undiscovered or at least under-utilized, the secret remaining unlocked.
Humanity has progressed in many respects over the centuries, but this may remain one of the areas where we continue to let ourselves down. One has to ask if modern economic pressures and imperatives are among the factors hampering an improvement.
Going back to the novel, I was once again left animated and enthused by Hesse's simple yet poetic and absorbing language. However, there was something else this time around. I was more attuned to the writer's implied, and even sometimes explicit, criticisms and judgements, especially concerning some aspects of scholasticism and monasticism, and the rigidity of the institutions which uphold and oversee them. Being Hermann Hesse he makes the points in a subtle, gentle and constructive manner. Before I was less sensitive to such charges being levelled by the great man, and this change I expect reflects changes in me over the intervening years.
I suspect that most people who read "Narcissus and Goldmund" find themselves, at some juncture, engaging in a touch of soul-searching, and wondering whether they themselves are closer in character and inclination to Narcissus, or to Goldmund. I was not immune to this process, but my assessments were clouded with caveats, doubts and qualifications.
On reflection, I am probably more a "thinker" than an "artist", but I arrived at this thought via a circuitous route. As I turned the age of thirty, I entered a period which could be best described as ebullient, although unlike Goldmund I did not become a wayfarer. The preceding years had been ones of restraint and reticence, although without the erudition and commitment to study of Narcissus.
The "outgoing" years, when I look back, were more a case of circumstance and a reaction to the "quiet" years, which were really characterised by passivity on my part, rather than any conscious programme of scholarship or learning. When the spell of relative excess was brought to an end, I realized that my true calling was to be a person of study, contemplation and words. So my true finding of myself occurred later in life than happened with Goldmund, and I was not fortunate enough to have a sounding-board or mentor such as the learned Narcissus. This kind of thing can happen to people, but not as dramatically as in literature, and at different stages and under different guises. In my case I wouldn't describe it as trial and error, but it needed several sea-changes in my life before the clearer picture started to fully emerge.
It is easy to see why, with his examples, his vision and the clarity and appeal of his ideas, Hermann Hesse has been cited as an inspiration for those undertaking the journey of life and of self-discovery. He opens people's eyes to their potential, and their humanity, partly through his evoking of the scope for authenticity and beauty in life and the world. He helps to peel away layers of inertia, apathy and lethargy.
The novels and other writings of Hesse are a deep well of philosophical nourishment from which I draw from time to time, and the works seldom fail to energize and galvanize me.
Running alongside the story of Goldmund's wanderings is the philosophical, and ultimately practical, challenge posed by this tension between the artist and the thinker, the senses and the spirit, the flesh and the mind. Can they be reconciled, made not to complement each other but to act in true union to lead us to fulfilment and realization? It is a tantalizing prospect, and even if there is substance in the notion it is likely that only a very small fraction of us will attain such a union in a meaningful way.
The chronicling of Goldmund's wanderings, his experiences in forests and with assorted inhabitants of the lands which he passed through, is essayed in a charming yet plausible way, with an eye for detail, shade and colour. More than with most authors, I find my brain and my imagination composing imagery to accompany Hesse's words as they are processed. The cares of the world tend to evaporate, at least temporarily, and I am transported to another world, but a world made very believable, very human.
I would be inclined to assert that "Narcissus and Goldmund" is not one of Hesse's most heavily "philosophical" novels, despite the subject matter which is covered within it. It might be more accurate to declare that the philosophy is less immediately "heavy", onerous and portentous than with some of his other output. To a degree, of course, all novels are "philosophical", but this one is bathed in a very beautiful salve.
An intriguing dimension of the Hermann Hesse universe is the naturalness of the settings. In this instance we are presented with a largely pre-industrial world. Of course the pastoral "idyll" is blemished by difficulties, vices and evils, although they appear at first unlike those which abound in our twenty-first century society. The backdrop is a pleasant enough vehicle, but at times we are reminded of the pernicious realities of those bygone times. It is quite easy to miss these sub-texts when caught up in Hesse's enchanting and fluid prose. It may be that he was wanting to draw some attention to the less enlightened patterns of life in the medieval ages without distracting us unduly from the central direction of the narrative.
There are some passages in this novel which examine the nature of art and artists, and I can see why such discussions may serve as a turn-off to some. However, these sections greatly impressed and intrigued me, especially those which addressed questions of impermanence and the fear of death.
A message which I drew from the story is that of our goals. Our goals may be vague, but the progress and the journey are more important and valuable than the precise objective itself. The objective, if even partly realised, cannot be "the end", but a new beginning, a prompting to embark on a quest for fresh horizons. So it appears to have been with Goldmund.
The artist/thinker dynamic is enticing but, particularly later in the book, Hesse brings the bourgeois/"bohemian" paradigm to the party. This has exercised my thoughts for some years now, more specifically the constraints and "responsibilities" imposed on individuality by modern economic and cultural pressures. Perhaps it was easier to practically escape bourgeois existence (in its various guises and forms) during the times when the novel is set, even the times when Hesse himself was composing his works. Modern societal norms seemingly make it more difficult to pursue a life parallel to the mainstream. For most of those feeling emasculated or ill-at-ease, maybe the most realistic option is to engage as little as possible with "the system", and strive where possible to achieve some kind of realization and insight. Idealism sometimes has to give way to a measure of pragmatism.
In keeping with his favoured themes, Hesse postulates the notion of cycles and the idea that everything passes, with life characterised by renewal and rebirth. Another central theme is that of the "maternal", the mother figure, and the feminine and masculine conscious and unconscious minds.
However, the one topic from "Narcissus and Goldmund" which stuck most indelibly in my psyche was this idea of unburdening oneself of experiences, emotions, triumphs and traumas by creating something tangible rather than ephemeral, before venturing on to a new challenge. This process almost sounds like a form of catharsis, and it should ideally be conducted in a non-vicarious way, but I was left asking myself whether it matters what form the "document" should take. Can those who are not blessed with artistic gifts or training benefit from such a "project", provided that it reconciles the two "opposites"?
I viewed the tale, and the subjects tackled, through more of a humanist framework on this occasion, because of my burgeoning interest in humanism and ideas of human flourishing. As with many novels of this kind, however, excessive latching on to one philosophical strand or message can mar or obscure one's overall enjoyment of the art.
"Narcissus and Goldmund" is to my mind one of Hesse's most affecting and finely rounded works, one with the depth and scope to spur the reader into greater contemplation and reflection.
