Bleak House - Charles Dickens

 I have, in the not too distant past, discovered a new-found enthusiasm for the novels of Charles Dickens, partly because the subject matter of his works dovetails significantly with some of my own latter-day philosophical preoccupations.

The next instalment in my odyssey was 'Bleak House'. I selected this particular work on the strength of write-ups and reviews, but I was still a little unsure what to expect. 

One notable aspect of the novel, and one which some people might find disconcerting, is the dual first-person/third-person narrative format. Personally, I did not find this to be any great inconvenience, and in some ways it enlivened the reading experience, because of the novelty and variety which it affords.

The centrepiece of the story, around which orbit the assorted characters and sub-plots, is a long-running, seemingly interminable legal case in the Court of Chancery. The case is tortuous and intricate to put it mildly, and a large portion of Dickens' purpose is to illuminate and impugn the perceived iniquities and flaws in the judicial system of the time.

The first-person narrator is Esther. She is, by and large, a sympathetic character, even if modern audiences would possibly wish her to be less "passive".  Esther's telling of her story is fluent and relatable, in contrast to the more flowery or obscure nature of parts of the third-person narrative. The thought has occurred to me whether Esther was intended as some kind of "idealized" person, to set against the murkier and more equivocal motives and approaches of other characters in the novel. Her honesty, diligence and selflessness seem genuine and unaffected, though seemingly heavily conditioned by her own upbringing and early experiences.

I find some of the players in the drama rather difficult to stomach, notably Boythorn, even if he appears to have had some redeeming qualities. Boythorn and Skimpole throw into sharper relief the roundedness of such figures as John Jarndyce and Esther. 

As with much Dickensian literature, there is lots of rumination on the social conditions and attitudes of those times. This takes the form of both satire and general observation. The passages which are set in the "brickworks" districts are quite powerful and emotive. It is difficult not to have one's feelings animated by the portrayal of such injustices and cruelties.

Something which I took from the novel is a notion that perhaps the social classes were not quite as estranged from each other as if often made out. Some of the characters seem to move between interactions with different classes easily and without altering their behaviour noticeably. Maybe Dickens was hinting that it was possible for the classes to mix more freely, but that the intransigent mind-set of certain people was the main obstacle.

A curious sub-text in 'Bleak House' is that of misguided or haughty philanthropy. The case of Mrs Jellyby is a fascinating and rather disturbing one, and this "tangent" may reflect a preoccupation among artists and thinkers of those decades with the inconsistencies and hypocrisies which could sometimes arise from charitable works, especially those undertaken by the middle or upper classes.

Another impressive figure in this novel is the detective Mr Bucket, whose energy and resourcefulness colour many of the chapters. His investigative journey with Esther is both gripping and absorbing.

Other themes which permeate the Bleak House "universe" pertain to the social conventions of the day. Even progressive-minded individuals were hemmed in my such considerations. The criteria for determining marriage choices and career options are a common thread, as are the deferential attitudes of even the enlightened and independent.  Despite what some people might think, there are ways in which the world has definitely improved....

I was quite taken by the manner in which Dickens depicted some of the lawyers; not exactly as caricatures, but in a way which underlined his own perspective , and giving voice to the distaste harboured by many people.

Rightly or wrongly, I discerned a message in Bleak House about usefulness to society or humanity. Doubts are expressed whether some elements of the legal profession contribute to the greater good. Other people "add value" to society, either through industriousness, service-provision or simply their virtues, goodness and by positively influencing others. 

I found 'Bleak House' to be a long, occasionally arduous read, but an enthusing and eminently worthwhile one. I can see why some have come to estimate it as one of Dickens' most complete and admirable works.

Rosshalde, by Hermann Hesse. A second reading.

Carrying on my renewed exploration of the novels of Hermann Hesse, I came to Rosshalde, which I remember made a great impression on me at the first time of asking a few years back.

The story examines the situation of an artist, Johann Veraguth, who lives on quite an opulent estate. His wife also lives on the estate, but they live in separate houses. The marriage has become deeply unhappy, The couple's youngest son, Pierre, is really all that now connects them. The boy lives mostly with his mother, whilst the eldest son is mostly away at school.

It seems that his desire to spend time with Pierre is the only thing which leads Johann to keep up the "pretence", and remain at Rosshalde. A visit from a friend, Otto, a man with an outgoing and inquisitive approach to life, sets in motion a series of fundamental contemplations and decisions on Johann's part, and then tragedy intervenes.

As I hinted at in my opening paragraph, Rosshalde made quite an impact on me when I first read it. The novel exudes a charm, a poignancy and a poetic sensibility which set it apart, even from most of Hesse's work. These qualities may to some extent stem from the fact that the story is, it seems, partly auto-biographical in nature.

The opening chapter sets the scene and the tone effortlessly and beautifully, outlining the ambience of the setting and its natural environs, the dynamics and the intricacies of the human relationships which play out there and which are the centrepieces of the story. We are also introduced to the habits and the demeanour of Johann.

These initial constructions go a long way to ensuring the effect and the atmosphere of the Rosshalde story, in its gently endearing but wistful evocations.

The visit paid to Rosshalde by Otto, and its influence on Johann's thinking, are central to the tale, and provoked much thought on my own part. Associating with vibrant, joyous people often brings us to realise what we are missing out on. It is also arguable that these encounters which wrench us away from an insular, secluded existence have a kind of randomness and transience to them. It is so easy to miss that particular train, in that it does not operate to a set timetable.

Johann's experiences also remind us that many individuals who appear, at first glance, to be living an enviable and stimulating life in fact feel unfulfilled. We are not all content with material comfort and professional "success".

Sometimes our pride makes it difficult for us to admit that something is absent. We pretend, or delude ourselves, that we are contented and happy. The point is made in this novel that contentment is perhaps an indicator of a lack of hope. We see some things merely as a means of blocking out distress, misery or sorrow, rather than as a path to positive self-realisation.

The passages which detail Otto's visit to Rosshalde are highly affecting and exquisitely composed, It is advisable for the reader to devote some time to carefully digesting the vagaries of the exchanges between Johann and his friend.

I find this novel important because it addresses, in a quiet and unspectacular way, so many aspects of the human experience which weigh so heavily. Love, compromise, doing things for the wrong reasons, enduring because the alternative is worse. Not being bitter about the past, but embracing the present and the moment. One door closes, another one opens. Also, sometimes Nature intervenes and engineers the change for us.

A striking note for me was the tragedy of human antipathy, miscommunication and misunderstanding, and the acknowledgement, however frustrating, that this is cold reality. There is little point in feeling angry about these things, for that would mostly be a waste of energy. We must learn how to cope, and also to be kind and reasonable in how we navigate the storms. Some horrors, such as loneliness and disillusionment, can be borne provided that there is hope.

The idea of the artist (in this case Johann) "burying himself in his work" - is this comparable to people burying themselves in their work to block out or forget personal woes? - is another theme touched on.  Does such an approach simply serve as a holding operation, rather than constituting an escape or a solution to the individual's predicament? What is perhaps needed is lasting relief, and not a constant urge to drown the anxieties. Not everyone is fortunate enough to receive the stimulus or the resolution.

The great irony of the story is that the event which finally "liberates" Johann is the demise of that which he had hitherto clung to as a beacon.  I am sure many people can identify with this element of the story, and the temptation to attach "irrational" interpretations to such events.

Rosshalde I found hugely enjoyable and stimulating, but I was also left with some quite stark feelings. On the one hand a certain admiration and satisfaction for a person who has, quite late in the day, achieved clarity and sureness of course. On the other, a certain cold wonder concerning the tragedies and follies of people. Even someone who nowadays is much more resigned to the inevitability and inescapability of those latter phenomena cannot fail to be jolted by their shadows and icy pervasiveness. The certainty that these things are facts of life does little to diminish their impressiveness.

Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

I am not exactly sure where the spur emanated from, but I was recently seized with the intention to return to the works of Charles Dickens, after a break of many years. It may be because some of his books resemble in their format and their "method", the work of Hermann Hesse, perhaps my favourite novelist.

I remember having a copy of Great Expectations during childhood. It became mislaid, or was given away, or else became a casualty of my unaccountable teenaged and early adult drift away from literature, or more specifically the novel. I may have been too busy with "abstract" and theoretical academic studies to be bothered with the humanistic and interpretative demands of classic fiction, much to my detriment. 

Looking back wistfully, I am tempted to speculate that Dickens may have constituted a better education, in a meaningful sense. Having said all this, I doubt that even as a teenager I would have been able to effectively absorb and assimilate all of the material and meaning which proliferate in Dicken's more substantial works.

To summarize, and without giving too much away, the novel tells the story of the development and growth of the 'Pip' character, and is 'narrated' by Pip in the first-person. The latter helps to endow the story with a distinct and curious flavour.

Some of the language and terminology employed may baffle present-day audiences, but to me this is but a small obstacle, and in fact it imbues the novel with a period feel and a strengthened feeling of realism. 

It might appear at first, in a superficial sense, that the story's structure relies too much on a number of coincidences. However, when one subjects affairs to a greater scrutiny it all becomes plausible and more clear; it could be a small world, even in 19th century England. One common factor links much of it together.

This is one of those novels which gathers momentum gradually but surely, as it draws the reader inexorably in. The motives, traits and eccentricities of the various characters help to drive and solidify these processes. Eventually I found myself rooting for the "good guys", once it became clearer who the good guys were.

I would contend that circumspection and leisure are handy things to observe when tackling Great Expectations. They are necessary in order to achieve and maintain a grasp of the plot, to "join the dots" as it were, and keep track of the various participants and their numerous connections.

The social commentary and satire is not quite as overt and as near to the surface as I had expected. but Dickens' concerns and his reformist ideas are still discernible, woven into the narrative and certain of the characterisations - some stand out more than others in the latter respect. Occasionally Pip does make a cutting comment in his account, invariably veiled in sarcasm or humour.

One of the foremost themes which for me stood out was a notion of the goodness, the authenticity and the transparency of ordinary people. This could have emerged in a romantic or "idealized" manner, but it does not, instead being brought out in a subtle way, as something to be picked up and acknowledged by the reader. The first-person narration helps to further this impression, serving to "soften" the impact of any message which the author may or not have been seeking to project, even allowing for the temptation to put words into Pip's mouth.

Let us just say that if the social climate and the economic picture portrayed here were anything like accurate, we can scarcely wonder that Dickens and his contemporaries craved reform and change. The picture of brutalized sections of society is a stark one, and worth more than a moment's contemplation. The dangers of such a scenario, now as then, remain something which we should all bear in mind and seek to guard against.

To me, it seemed that some of the key individual events or incidents in the novel did not have the conventional sense of "drama" or "moment" which I had been conditioned to expect. Some things appeared to just "happen", explained in poetic, even cryptic terms, and the story then moved on, with full explanation sometimes only occurring via the insight of the reader.  When I reflect upon this, it is less a criticism of this particular work, and more a sign of the types of literature which I have habitually frequented. The first-person narration is also a salient point in all this. What the occurrences lost in initial, literal clarity they gained in lyrical and artistic effect.

The mental imagery evoked by the words of Dickens, as spoken through Pip, is very strong, or at least it was strong and affecting in my case. The major locations and settings soon assume a real identity and consistency, and these may prove to be instrumental in attaining an enhanced enjoyment of the tale, and arriving at a deeper appraisal of the characters and the issues explored.

A reason for this novel's significance and enduring appeal is that some of the themes which it examines are universal and not governed by time. One which was highlighted for me was this concept of trying to "compensate" for the effects of our injudicious or errant deeds, even if those deeds might have been committed under duress or through naivete. If we cannot reverse or directly counter-act our mistakes, we can at least learn from our mistakes and experiences, and seek to be a force for good, for humane treatment of others, and for justice. These elements had a distinct resonance for this reader, partly with reference to today's social ills and pressures.

Charles Dickens has sometimes been associated, in my mind at least, with social commentary and the grim industrial and urban landscapes of 19th century London and England. Having returned to Great Expectations, I am happy to revise and retract those outdated and erroneous perspectives. In this novel Dickens shows himself to be a highly capable and resourceful story-teller, with the capability of weaving endearing and captivating narratives. Maybe I will read David Copperfield next - to the best recollection that one eluded me entirely in my younger days....

Peter Camenzind, by Hermann Hesse - a second reading

 As I continue my second major odyssey through the writings of Hermann Hesse, I turn to his first novel, Peter Camenzind, published in 1904.

It follows the story of the titular character, a young man from the countryside, who goes away to college and subsequently embarks on various travels, friendships and cultural ventures. The novel concludes with Peter returning to his home village to support his ageing father.

What I really like about Peter Camenzind is its streamlined and simple format. Also, Hesse does not settle for stereotypical or "obvious" plot elements or characterizations. The tale is laid out in a pleasingly organic way, exuding a charm and fluency which are outstanding even by Hesse's standards.

The character of Peter Camenzind is quite idiosyncratic but eminently plausible, and he does not necessarily conform to what we expect from protagonists in this type of novel, by Hesse or others. The reader is challenged to accept and recognise that we all have our own quirks and that we all react in different ways to our influences, our upbringing and our environment. We are perhaps mistaken if we cherish the notion that all people develop within a narrow set of parameters.  Young Mr Camenzind is by no means a caricature.

It is telling, I think, that on revisiting the stories of Hermann Hesse, I am a good deal less receptive to the "supernatural" dimension than I was in the past. Instead, I distil things down to a "philosophical" and worldly interpretation, and I would contend that one does not need to be religious or spiritually inclined to be animated and invigorated by Hesse's observations.

As ever, Hesse demonstrates a great facility for evoking imagery through words, imagery which conjures up a vibrant but believable series of locations and situations. This to me suggests a fertile imagination and an observant mind, in addition to solid and wide-ranging personal experience.

The philosophical drive, if one was intended, does not seem as clear and as strong in this novel as is the case with some of Hesse's others. The reader is left with the task of interpreting much of what transpires within the pages. Apart from the standard Hesse themes of self-discovery and a search for personal identity, the "message" is comparatively diffuse here, and the novel is none the worse for that. Only in his later works would Hesse flesh out and engage with his regular fields of inquiry in more concentrated form.

Peter Camenzind's story is an indication that Hesse's work was more varied than some might imagine, and that it evolved and developed over time. It is also fair to say that keen antennae are required to discern the differences and nuances. Even if one accepts that the author's books cover similar ground, I would rather have writing of this quality, continuity and profundity than that of novelists whose subject matter is all over the map but anodyne. Reading Hesse is a journey and an education, not just a form of "entertainment" or relaxation. 

Due to the apparent absence of an all-pervading major theme, the story-line, which is told in the "first person", glides along smoothly, relatively uncluttered by weighty concerns. Hesse is highly adept at basic, enjoyable story-telling, quite apart from his other qualities.

So what did I learn from Peter Camenzind's story?  Well, a conception which crops up here and there is the sense that our experiences, good and bad, even if we do not put them to concrete or tangible use, equip us and embolden us to tackle life's ongoing challenges and trials, although we do not always realise this. In addition, what sustains us is a belief, even a confidence, that something good or rewarding will eventually be ours. This faith may be misplaced and unlikely in reality to ever bear fruit, but a tentative form of progress, consciously and otherwise, towards this vague objective is in the main healthy, provided that we do not visualise the ultimate goal too pedantically or obsessively.

Throughout the novel, Nature, and mankind's relationship to it in the modern age, is a recurring topic. The notion of revering and studying Nature as a means of appreciating and loving our fellow humans more fully is put forward. I must confess that this aspect of Camenzind's wanderings and reflections hit home with me, as someone who has become aware from personal experience of the realities of alienation and detachment.

Recognising that we interact with Nature, as well as being part of it ourselves, may assist in renewing some severed connections, as well as enabling us to steer a more fulfilling and mindful course, by breathing in Nature's gifts. Beauty comes in many forms. These questions are arguably even more pressing and relevant today than when Hesse was composing this story.

The portions of this novel which I relished most were those which chronicled Camenzind's travels, especially those to Italy, and the manner in which he relates the healing and soothing effects of mixing with and befriending ordinary people, with their modesty, humility and earthy goodness. It is perhaps not a coincidence that those people lived more closely attuned to Nature and its munificence.

I sensed that in a way Hesse was setting the authenticity and genuineness of common folk against some others who he encountered in the worlds of academia and art, those who had been affected by ego, vanity and ambition. These points do not really feel to me like an attempt to "romanticize" the distinction, but the writer makes them eloquently enough.

Another argument which caught my attention when studying Peter Camenzind was the idea that observing and associating with individuals is often more instructive and stimulating than an "abstract" examination of humanity as a whole. An example of this is the main character's relationship with the disabled man Boppi, a friendship which is documented most lovingly and touchingly. To be of genuine utility and value, do these relationships need to go beyond the superficial level?

In emphasizing such a "grass roots" method of studying people, Hesse may have been effecting another subtle dig at academia and scholarship, who knows? This introduces us to a field which he would return to, in various forms, later in his career.

Hesse appears to be arguing in his accounts of Camenzind's friendships that we need to value our relationships, learn from them, see them as a two-way process, and harness them to improve and enrich ourselves and the world around us. It is never too late to soak up life's beauty and warmth, and never too late to attain a semblance of realization, and we should not necessarily fear death.

I have always been somewhat sceptical of the oft-asserted suggestion that travel "broadens the mind".  Perhaps what it does accomplish is to help us to get closer to a clue to our true selves, and put other areas of our existence into a clearer perspective. Introduced to different people and backdrops, we may see things which we previously shunned or decried in a new light. This was another of my take-aways from the Camenzind wanderings.

I find it refreshing and interesting that the story does not have a "natural" or definitive ending, as is regularly the case with similar novels, even those of Hermann Hesse. Many of Peter's plans and ambitions remain unclear and unfulfilled, but his experiences and the things which he has learned and achieved together form part of his identity and his personality, and are the resources on which he will draw as his life moves on.

I would say that Peter Camenzind is one of Hermann Hesse's most concise, rewarding and enchanting works. With its broad but important range of questions it might serve as a useful introduction to the thought-world and style of this remarkable writer.

Narcissus and Goldmund, by Hermann Hesse - revisited....

 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.

 

Looking Backward - 2000-1887 - Edward Bellamy

In recent times, my interest has been increasingly focused on how society can be made more just and equitable, whilst still retaining its dynamism and promoting human flourishing and progress. 'Utopian' literature has formed part of my studies in this area. 

The novel 'Looking Backward - 2000-1887', by Edward Bellamy, was first published in 1888. A man in Boston, Massachusetts is placed into a hypnosis-induced trance or sleep, and wakes up in the year 2000, to find that the world has become a socialist utopia, with the means of production nationalised and money effectively abolished. He is given tours of this new utopia by the family which is playing host to him. There is an interesting 'twist' to the plot near the end which adds a touch of romance alongside philosophical heart of the novel. 

In some respects the work bears similarities to 'News From Nowhere' by William Morris, although their respective utopias differ quite markedly. I found 'Looking Backward' to be more substantial, and less of a 'fairytale', than Morris' effort. That said, I would question how a society can be so profoundly transformed in such a relatively short period of time, apparently without much in the way of resistance, and how the 'virtue' of its citizens can be so uniformly purified. In addition, there is the standard lingering question of how things would function with less emphasis placed on 'incentives' and 'competition'.

Of course, some areas of the story can seem dated, because of the time when the book was created, and the attitudes and theories which were fashionable then do not necessarily translate that smoothly or plausibly for twenty-first century consumption. The solutions which are detailed in 'Looking Backward....' do not always correspond to currently 'fashionable' proposals, and might even seem authoritarian or 'dystopian', and what is envisaged might appear excessively regimented.

In the novel, the apologists for the new system are a bit too certain of their own righteousness for my tastes. Having said that, for a utopian novel this is quite a decent read from a literary viewpoint, even if some might contend that the work served to a large degree as little more than a 'platform' or a vehicle for Edward Bellamy's political and philosophical ideas.

Crime And Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Recently I finally got around to reading Fyodor Dostoyevsky's classic novel Crime And Punishment, and I was prompted to commit a few thoughts and reflections to blog form.

To summarise, the story centres on an impoverished former student, who carries out a murder, two murders in fact, imagining that the act would serve some "higher purpose". He is then forced to confront the consequences of his deeds, and to seek redemption.

One of the first things which hit me upon reading the novel was its stark, unflinching and often unsettling portrayal of the wretched social conditions which prevailed at that time, and not just in Russia, let us remember, with injustice everywhere. The struggles which many people endured against adverse economic straits and a cruel system are grippingly detailed. 

I loved the style of the language and the writing which the author used, describing almost every move and thought made by the lead character Raskolnikov in particular. One can almost feel like one is there, experiencing the same emotions, being assailed by the same dilemmas and decisions, and sensing the approach of dread and grim reality.

The one feature of Crime And Punishment which surprised me was how cleverly it was put together, and how the supporting and minor characters have considerable depth, inspiring curiosity and enhancing the richness of the tale. The characters overlap and interact in such a way as to make this novel highly cohesive and fluent in its structure. Another thing which struck me was what I perceived to be a relative absence of "philosophizing", especially in the first half of the book.

Further to my identification of the characterisations as a major strength of the novel, I would stress the importance of the attention to detail which the author employs, capturing the fluctuating moods of the participants and the nuanced unfolding of the narrative. A vivid "mind's eye" is engendered, whereby the reader can use the words on the page to paint his or her own pictures. This is how I personally prefer to approach and savour fiction; it is a rewarding means of extracting the most from literature, but it must also be pointed out that the raw material must be there in the first place for the aforementioned process to be genuinely stimulating and invigorating.

As I have intimated above, this work was not quite what I had anticipated, but I make this observation in a positive and complimentary sense. The interest is maintained throughout by the richness of the language, the plausibility of the characters and the moral pull of the subject matter being examined.

Maybe what I am about to say tells as much about me as it does about Dostoyevsky's powers of storytelling, but I found the strength of my social and political perspectives being challenged and roused by the questions which the author managed to pose and evoke through his depiction of the 19th century's inequities. The powerlessness and helplessness of the weak and the poor in the face of the strong, the powerful and the arrogant. At the same time I found myself recognising that things, in many respects, have changed for the better since those days, whilst being conscious of the strains and the flaws which afflict our modern world.

I don't think that the philosophical direction of this work is quite as clear-cut, as straightforward or as unambiguous as many reviews and analyses seem to pronounce. In any event, trying too hard to make clear sense of the story's "messages" and morals may spoil the reader's enjoyment and appreciation of its many other strengths.

I won't give too much away, for the benefit of those who haven't yet read it, but this is a truly affecting, thought-provoking and striking work, which I would recommend to anyone who enjoys challenging and absorbing literature.

Lotte In Weimar - Thomas Mann

Continuing my exploration of the works of Thomas Mann, I recently read his novel Lotte In Weimar, originally published in 1939.

This novel tells the story of a visit to Weimar by a woman who was the "muse" and inspiration behind the main female character in Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's novel The Sorrows of Young Werther. Charlotte has come to Weimar ostensibly to see her sister, but she becomes an object of fascination for the locals, and she has a reunion with Goethe himself.

The early chapters are very much consistent with some other Mann novels, with their vibrant and engrossing character, and their richness of detail. The passages which explore the closing stages of the Napoleonic Wars and the parallel political developments in Germany, and their effects on Goethe's family and social circle, are riveting. Conversations between Charlotte and a series of visitors serve as a fascinating examination of Goethe's personality, motivations and world-view.

Subsequent chapters were less appealing for me. Some space is taken up with a conversation which Goethe appears to have with himself, and which is delivered in almost a stream-of-consciousness manner. There are some nuggets of interest in there, though.  The narrative and the focus pick up again when the aforementioned Goethe-Charlotte reunion finally occurs.

Throughout Lotte In Weimar we see evidence of Thomas Mann's social and political concerns, largely told through the person of Goethe and others. The author's misgivings about developments in Germany during Mann's own time find echoes in a critique of  the upsurge of German nationalist sentiment during the early nineteenth century. The fact that this book was first published in 1939/40 must have furnished it with a contemporary resonance.  The political points are eloquently and sharply observed and outlined here.

So this is an intriguing and rewarding read, different in content and atmosphere to what I had anticipated.

Confessions Of Felix Krull - Thomas Mann

Thomas Mann has, in recent years, become one of my favourite novelists, perhaps rivalling only Hermann Hesse in my estimations. The prospect of reading Confessions Of Felix Krull was an enticing one.

Confessions Of Felix Krull is essentially the "memoir" of the eponymous character. Thomas Mann apparently intended to publish several volumes, but his death prevented these plans being realised.

The story is set in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Felix Krull is a young man from an affluent German family. However, the family falls on hard economic times. Following his father's death, young Felix goes out into the world, to make use of his looks, his wits, his charm and his burgeoning abilities as a con-man.

Much of the early going is taken up with an exploration of Krull's formative years, and how his personality and outlook on life came about.

Some of my favourite passages in the novel concern his time spent in Frankfurt. We gain an idea and an understanding of the social conditions of that time, and we also learn about some of Felix's often lurid adventures and liaisons in the big city.  Felix then moves to Paris to work in a hotel.

I would surmise that the majority of readers will not find the character of Felix Krull very sympathetic, and may conclude that he is downright irritating. Mann may have been writing with tongue-in-cheek, and at the same time making some gentle, and occasionally not so gentle, social commentary. Although the author could have admired some of the character's qualities and talents, I doubt that their respective world-views would have overlapped much.  We are, however, left to interpret or imagine how the writer would have appraised the world in which Krull operated.

The moral ambiguity of the main character is perhaps what makes this book a less rewarding read for me than some other Mann works. The "philosophical" elements seemed more superficial and there was less depth to the characters and the narrative. Maybe the (unwritten/unpublished) subsequent volumes might have redressed the balance in this respect? On the positive side, there are still many examples of Mann's aptitude for detail, imagination and scene-setting.

As this story was "unfinished", the ending to this novel might seem enigmatic or anti-climactic. Mann had set very high standards with some of his previous offerings, but his writing is always formidable, absorbing and invigorating. Very much worth one's time.

News From Nowhere - William Morris

During my adult life I have tended to read fewer fictional works than I would have preferred, and generally those novels which I have enjoyed have been of the more "philosophical" variety, including some utopian and dystopian science fiction. William Morris' 1890 novel News From Nowhere pretty much corresponds to these tendencies of mine.

In this novel, a man falls asleep in Victorian London, and apparently wakes up in a future society which styles itself as a socialist utopia, and which is agrarian in character.  He is given a tour of this "new world" by the people who he meets, and this takes in boat journeys along the River Thames.

Even allowing for the times when the work was composed, I found the writing style to be an acquired taste. Although not quite archaic in its flavour, in places it may be difficult for some to follow and even understand. Of the novel itself, I was pleasantly surprised by how enjoyable and absorbing I found it.

The fact that the new society outlined in this book is agrarian in nature means that it probably made more sense back in the late nineteenth century than it does to a twenty-first century audience raised in an age of globalization and rapid technological progress. Despite this, some aspects of the utopia envisaged here are very much relevant to our own modern concerns and problems. Perhaps Morris was prescient and astute in observing that technology does not necessarily emancipate the people, or rather is not allowed to emancipate the people.

Whilst the agrarian society portrayed in News From Nowhere seems impractical and implausible to us in our hi-tech world, and the old arguments concerning incentives and competition remain very valid, facets of this utopian vision are worthy of consideration and scrutiny, as part of piecemeal social and economic reform to improve our world and make it more humane, stimulating and equitable.

One feature of the novel which I found slightly disconcerting was the revelation, or insinuation, that all the people were happy, and that they evince a certain kind of serenity.  This seems unlikely and even undesirable.  A place where there is a uniformity of expressions and moods sounds to my antennae like more of a dystopia!

Some of the language used, and the arguments advanced, are quite persuasive, certainly of the evils of 19th century society and its contemporary industrialism, but whether this means that the agrarian route was a practical and workable solution is another matter entirely.  Perhaps there is a gap in the market for someone to write a novel where a person falls asleep in a 21st century environment and wakes up in a future libertarian socialist set-up?  Maybe we are currently at a similar stage, "spiritually" if not materially speaking, as the Victorians were?

I was heartened that some form of "explanation" was offered as to how the old society of "commercial slavery" gave way to the brave new world, but I found myself wanting more.  For example, what was the full human cost of the transition?  In fairness, we are left wondering whether our hero's "experiences" were from a dream, and some minutiae may not have been imparted in such a dream....

Moving on, I was intrigued by one of the central tenets of this utopia; the notion that work can be pleasurable, and vice-versa, and of the idea that the barriers between work and art can be eroded. Weren't we once told that technological advances would allow people more time and space to indulge in stimulating and rewarding artistic, intellectual and leisurely pursuits?

My interpretation of the utopia proclaimed in this work was that it was too uniformly "nice", with little time for dissenting voices, which appeared to be treated with disdain. The tone of the characters seemed to me unduly smug and complacent, with scant allowance for the co-existence of philosophies or the possibility of syncretism. People in that situation may be too comfortable and serene to notice anything sinister or insidious in their midst. In addition, I think there was too easy an assumption that the old habits and vices would simply disappear or fade away.

Much play is made of the populace of this future community being at one with nature, and loving life as opposed to fearing death. Surely we can incorporate some of the more desirable elements of Morris' vision in our future, by way of gradual, rational reform, and the application of reason, if we put our minds to it, without dispensing with some of the dynamic forces which propel human progress?

Overall, I liked this novel much more than I had anticipated beforehand.  It is more "literary" than I thought it might be, and it is well worth a read.

Resurrection - Leo Tolstoy

Resurrection is a philosophical novel by Leo Tolstoy. It chronicles the efforts of a Russian nobleman to atone for his previous misdeeds towards a young woman, who has found herself in prison. The protagonist, Nekhlyudov, blames himself for her fall from grace and her later incarceration.

As Nekhlyudov tries to help Maslova, he becomes acutely aware of the injustice, cruelty and corruption around him, and this ensures that his mission extends beyond mere personal redemption.

I had not read any Tolstoy since my teens (War And Peace), and the consensus seems to me that this later effort, Resurrection, is not as "literary" as some of his earlier novels, with less depth in terms of storyline and characterizations. It does act as a platform for the author to expound some of his political beliefs (by this time he was a Christian anarchist).

I was drawn to this work in part because of my own interest in the economic theories of Henry George, to which Tolstoy had become an enthusiastic adherent.  The book, though, does not go into as much detail about the workings of Georgism as I had been led to expect.

Resurrection might not be on a par in artistic terms with Tolstoy's acknowledged masterpieces, but I found the story quite absorbing, and the subject matter should tug at the conscience of most people. Some of the passages concerning the conditions endured by the prisoners are genuinely disturbing and moving.  Also, Nekhlyudov's interactions with Maslova are quite complex, and how one interprets and gauges their attitudes to each other at various stages adds to the interest.

It is possible to argue I think that there is not sufficient space in the novel to fully explore how the Nekhlyudov character arrived at his world-view - it seems that even before his liaison with Maslova he was harbouring grave misgivings about "the system", and at the disparity between the luxury enjoyed by his own class and the plight of the downtrodden. On the other hand, his indignation at what he witnesses, and his energetic moves to intervene, help to propel the story.

I found highly interesting the descriptions of some of the less appetizing representatives of the ruling classes and the bureaucracy, and the way in which their attitudes of arrogance and indifference compounded Nekhlyudov's disaffection with the milieu with which he had hitherto been closely connected.

So, Resurrection is an interesting read.  The world may have changed considerably since this was written in the late 19th century, but the broader issues which it examines can, with some imagination, be transferred to modern times.

Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

In recent years, I have been most invigorated and energized by my acquaintance with some classic German literature, in the main Hermann Hesse and Thomas Mann and, I will say, finding it more stimulating and engaging than most of the work by English writers that I have encountered in the same period.

This process has also brought me into contact with the world of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, and I recently read his novel Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship, which had been lurking unread on my Kindle for some little time.

I didn't weigh myself down by seeking to determine whether this was a novel of ideas, a philosophical novel, or a bildungsroman. I am in accord with those who have noted that it defies easy categorization.

Basically, the story follows the journey of the eponymous character, as he strives to escape a bourgeois career, and initially seeks to make a career as an actor. The tension between the bourgeois and the bohemian, the worldly and the spiritual, reminded me, superficially at least, of the works of Hermann Hesse.

Particularly to a modern reader, the story does not appear stunningly original, but it is so absorbing that this is largely immaterial. The characters discuss all manner of ideas encompassing art, literature, religion, politics, philosophy and human nature.  Wilhelm's interest in Hamlet and Shakespeare serves as a kind of peg for part of the way.

The discourse is given added authenticity because the novel was composed at the time when societal and cultural ferment was acute.  This is not some idealized, misty-eyed historical novel.  This sense of realism is accentuated by the fact that the ideas do not protrude forcefully from the narrative, but tend to blend quite seamlessly into the flow of the text.  I found this to be the case especially with the gentle commentary concerning the class structures of those times.

An intriguing aspect of this novel which recurs throughout is the scrutiny of the concepts of Fate and Destiny, as they were up against notions of reason and the idea of making one's own "luck". I related sharply to the parts of the story which stressed the value of falling back on something less exalted and fanciful, and of guarding against unrealistic aspirations in life.

Women play a prominent role throughout the story, especially assertive, educated females from affluent or intellectual backgrounds. I'm not sure whether Goethe was trying to make a point in this regard, but it does endow the novel with an added dimension, and was perhaps intended as subtle social commentary.

The opening chapters engender an immersive and stimulating atmosphere, and before long I found myself genuinely caring about many of the characters and their fortunes, and also identifying with their feelings and their dilemmas. Goethe does seem to have that facility to tug at the heart-strings, and it is displayed most pointedly in the passages which deal with Wilhelm's romantic and emotional entanglements and upheavals.  His alternating anguish and ebullience certainly struck a chord.

This is one of those novels which may reveal its true and full depth with repeated readings. The intricacies of the plot and the subtleties of the characterizations may thereby be more vividly illustrated. Importantly, it has some instructive things to say about how we should improve ourselves and enrich our lives, through activity and cultivating a curiosity about the outside world, rather than lingering in introspection.

Quite a long haul, this one, but a rewarding one, and I can readily see how it has been quite influential down the decades.

The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress - Robert A. Heinlein

I had been meaning to check out the work of Robert A. Heinlein for a while, but was a little unsure where to begin. Well, I took the plunge by checking out The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress, first published in 1966.

Basically, the novel is set in the latter part of the 21st century.  The Moon has been turned into a penal colony, to where Earth's convicts and "undesirables" are transported. A group of revolutionaries, with the help of a "self-aware" computer, seek to overthrow the authority of "Terra" in the lunar colony.

The story is narrated by one of the main characters, Mannie, and he employs a curious Lunar dialect, which may take the reader a little while to become accustomed to. However, once this minor issue is overcome, the book will absorb and captivate.

Only a short way into The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress, I found myself rooting for the characters and their aspirations, even if their methods were sometimes questionable. I had emotionally invested in their fate and their destiny.  A diverse bunch, and this engendered some friction, and a strange chemistry.

The scientific and technical aspects of the story were for me secondary in importance, although I am not sure that by 2075 computers will have advanced to the degree envisaged here. To be frank, I'm not sure that I would want them to, either.  In truth, I usually reverted to "auto-pilot" mode when elaborate telephone systems and the vagaries of "Mike" the computer were being discussed.

I was impressed by the way in which justification for the Lunar revolt was presented, not just in "abstract" matters of freedom and self-determination, but by bringing ecological issues, economic liberalization and free trade into the equation. This demonstrated a real confidence on the part of the writer,  and added depth and credibility to the story.

Much of the nitty-gritty of how the revolt was organized is not presented in exhaustive detail, and the reader is invited to use his or her imagination, and to read between the lines. From this perspective, the novel does require concentration and open-mindedness, to grasp the rationale and implications of some of the deceptions which are committed by the "revolutionists", for example. A similar approach may be necessary when comprehending the social structures and customs which are shown to have evolved on Luna.

This book has a reputation as a "libertarian" novel,  although I think that conspicuous "preaching" on ideological matters is kept to a minimum.  Rather than being obtrusive, such things are generally woven quite seamlessly into the text, and at appropriate points.

The climax to the novel I found truly gripping, largely because, as mentioned above, I had been drawn in by the characters and the subject matter, and the outcome mattered to me.  The moral questions posed by the story line are not straightforward;they are awkward but timelessly pertinent. My curiosity and my senses had been animated, a good barometer, I find, for how worthy and substantial a work of fiction is.

The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress is well worth a read, and not just for dedicated science-fiction fans.

The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd - Agatha Christie

I must confess that detective fiction, or crime novels, have not featured that highly on my list of literary priorities over the years. However, the lure of Agatha Christie's work proved too strong, and I therefore recently sought out The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd, first published in 1926, and often cited as one of the most important detective novels of all time.

Almost as soon as I commenced reading the book, the thought struck me that its impact had been dulled by the fact that I had seen the British television adaption, starring David Suchet as Hercule Poirot, even if that adaptation differed from the novel in several respects. On the other hand, the small-screen version did assist me in my "visualizations".

The employment of a central character as "narrator" helps to give this story its distinctive feel. Again, the effect might be different, more pronounced, to those who are unfamiliar with the story in any format.

For me, the character of Hercule Poirot both irritates less and charms less when his idiosyncrasies emanate from the printed page. Even so, one can readily appreciate how Agatha Christie supposedly came to dislike the character, her own creation. I guess that modest, anodyne characters do not inspire strong emotions, or persuade people to read books. Perhaps the reader should develop a method of "tuning out" Poirot's less agreeable traits?

I should stress that my evaluation of The Murder Of Roger Ackroyd may have been coloured by the slant of my fiction-reading in recent times, which has tended to focus on meatier, "philosophical" fare, such as Hermann Hesse and Thomas Mann. So, when a sense of time and place, and historical perspective, seems largely absent, as with this novel, the natural reaction may be "what is all the fuss about?".  An adjustment has to be made, to accept things on their own terms, and to concentrate on the detective elements and the "human nature" angles.

The plot has some compelling elements. Suicide, blackmail, jealousy, resentment, avarice, deceit and of course murder.  The characters themselves are projected quite strongly in the novel, so that one acquires a reasonable understanding of their attributes and vices. The ending can be seen to fulfill more than one function. It surprises, especially to newcomers, but it is also left sufficiently enigmatic to leave some people wondering, and even proffering alternative, if sometimes fanciful, interpretations...

I did enjoy this book, but I wish earnestly that I had experienced it before I saw the television version. Its novelty and "shock" value was much diminished, I think. Repeated readings may alter my attitude, but it does surprise me a little that The Murder Of  Roger Ackroyd is revered to the extent that it is. I guess that opinions depend largely on the personal tastes and literary palate of the reader.

Despite the cleverness of the plot, and its gripping nature, I was not heavily engaged emotionally or spiritually. I was not left feeling inspired or emboldened, or moved by any sense of being uplifted or animated. I had finished the book, and that was pretty much that. It was an interesting and well-constructed novel, but its alleged status as a masterpiece was, I admit, lost on me, during this first encounter.

To my mind, there was little genuine examination of the motives behind the culprit's deeds, or of his underlying grievances, if he had any.  Also, the story is not really placed in any contemporaneous social context, in a way that could penetrate this reader's conscience and imagination. I would have recoiled at the callousness of the murderer, whilst simultaneously pondering any injustices or iniquities which might have been perceived to have fuelled the tragedy.

I think the message to me is either that I prefer pure crime stories to be audio-visual, or that glossy and atmospheric TV shows with lavish production values have tarnished or distorted my approach towards the crime novel genre....

Hermann Hesse - The Glass Bead Game

The works of Hermann Hesse have the rare capacity to force the reader to reappraise his or her attitudes to life and the world around them.

Of Hesse's novels, The Glass Bead Game, which I recently read for the second time, is one of the longest and most intricate, but the questions which it poses can be very readily distilled. The story basically revolves around the character of Joseph Knecht and his life of study and teaching.

Knecht enters the "pedagogic province" of Castalia, and becomes well-versed in the book's titular pastime, although a detailed knowledge or grasp of the game's niceties is by no means essential to an understanding or enjoyment of the novel.

Essentially, the theme of the novel is the tension between the abstract and the worldly, between the ethos of rarefied,contemplative study and that of the more "sordid" and instinctive life outside Castalia. This conflict, and the conclusions which spring from it, are explored with reference to the author's fascination with Eastern concepts of duality, transitoriness, renewal and rebirth. Certain characters in Knecht's orbit are held to be symptomatic of the existing set-up, or precursors of the future.

The heart of the argument, as I understood it, is to what degree "esoteric" academic and cultural pursuits such as the Glass Bead Game have any value for the real world, but equally how much such undertakings contribute to man's reason and enlightenment, bestow practical applications , and therefore lead to a more peaceful and just world.

Of course, this intellectual "elitism" was in effect subsidized by the man in the street. Such "luxuries" would clearly be jeopardized when emergencies such as war arose. As I deciphered it, part of the message here was that Castalia should try to inculcate Castalian principles and values in society proper.  This presumably on the theory that a more stable society would help to ensure the survival of Castalia in some shape or form, by nurturing a more conducive social and economic climate.

Some of the passages which ruminate about intellectual and cultural developments remind me of Thomas Mann. Some of this was tough going when compared to the purely biographical bits, but they are important in the overall.

The Glass Bead Game works on more than one level. It is easy to dwell on the societal ramifications of the Castalian set-up and its relations with the outside world, but the effects on individuals are equally pertinent. The suffocating impact of the secluded existence, being cut off from "real life", as well as the nagging sense that their talents are not being used for the general good, or indeed for an individual's own spiritual well-being.

An abiding trait of Hesse's writing is that he touches the very essence of life, our make-up and our equilibrium, the soul and what animates it. He makes such things seem so elementary and tangible, but also induces a yearning for self-discovery in those of us who have found the equilibrium elusive and troublesome.

The Hesse works regularly take place in remote settings or situations, but the characters are invariably wrestling with universal turmoils and concerns. Hermann Hesse has been a major influence on my life, and my outlook, in recent years.  Just a few pages are sufficient to rekindle that feeling of serenity and hope, like a reconnection with some semblance of love and truth, if only fleetingly.

In a broader way, the story supports the notion that we benefit from a change of scenery, encountering different people, points of view, and atmospheres, and that we should not prolong phases of our life which have begun to decay and pall, and should move on. Of course, this is easier said than done for most people, and most would not rationalize such impulses in the "exotic" manner favoured by Hesse. We should also try not to entirely estrange ourselves from things which appear alien.

My feeling is that Hesse relied on the sensitivity and perspicacity of his readers to constantly juggle these levels of meaning, and to discern them in the first place. Otherwise, his writing would not possess its unique flavour and vitality. What first drew me to Hesse, when my life had been to a dark place, was the weight placed on self-discovery and enlightenment.  But knowing what we do about the man, it is apparent that he had an eye for wider social commentary, in addition to chronicling the journeys of individuals, the latter often serving as metaphors for the former. Matters of some moment were indirectly addressed in a digestible and "non-threatening" form, but the point was undeniably there.

The Glass Bead Game is grandiose by Hesse standards, and the occasional geopolitical tangent is atypical of the author's usual approach. Its depth renders it more demanding and draining on the reader's faculties. Contained within The Glass Bead Game is a conventional Hesse novel, but it is more "fleshed out".

To some less discerning observers it might seem that the story "tails off" or fizzles out, but one must remember that this is not a conventional novel, Hesse had said what he meant to say, and of course the manner in which the main bulk of the tale concludes encourages the reader to assess the possible interpretations. A whole vista of possibilities should really open up.

Admittedly, this book does not quite leave me with the warm and buoyant sensations engendered with some other Hesse works, but this is counter-balanced by the amount, and variety, of food for thought which it serves up. Thoughts about ourselves, our place in the world, and our responsibilities.

On The Road - Jack Kerouac - book review

"On The Road", the classic 1957 novel by Jack Kerouac, had been residing on my bookshelves for some time, pleading to be read. To my shame, I have hardly read any "Beat" literature, and was therefore a little unsure what to expect.

In a nutshell, "On The Road" tells the story of Sal Paradise (the narrator, and based on Kerouac himself) and his friends as they embark on various journeys and trips across America. It is semi-autobiographical, and other characters are based on Kerouac's friends and associates. The tale is set primarily in the late 1940s.

To grasp the essence of this novel, it is necessary to understand the mindset of the colourful characters, in particular that of Dean Moriarty, Sal's friend and regular travelling companion. They habitually operate outside what would be considered social norms. The fact that their outlook still seems outlandish is perhaps a sad commentary on twenty-first century life. Are we still, deep down, so conformist?

The "Beat" concept is somewhat nebulous at the best of times, and must appear even more so with our modern modes of communication and discourse, and their tendency to polarize so many things. The lifestyles appear dissolute, but the joie-de-vivre of Dean and the others is enticing. Some of the behaviour detailed in "On The Road" must bemuse even self-proclaimed free spirits. The effect is perhaps more acute because these events are meant to have occurred not long after World War 2, in a period when we are told that most people were craving stability and security.

The fact that this book has a narrator is an aid to keeping track of the characters and their numerous trials, tribulations, revelations and relocations. One of the surprising things to newcomers is that this story is not one of a single journey or trip, but a series occurring over several years, with other events sandwiched in between.

Along the way, we meet a number of engaging and fascinating figures, and learn about their encounters with our "heroes". Many of these episodes are touching and poignant. Some are vignettes, others are more protracted and in-depth. The sadness and harshness of lives, but also the richness and vitality of our world and the human experience. The occasional craziness does not totally obscure the genuine pathos. What also emerges is an affinity for sub-cultures, for the marginalized and the downtrodden.

Whilst reading "On The Road", I was reminded that it would have been easier to pursue these adventures back in those days, when the world was not so weighed down by regulations and bureaucracy. The title "On The Road" does not just denote a journey, but a way of life, a world-view and an ongoing quest. The "unconventional" existence being led by these people was also a strikingly simple one. Straight society struggles to comprehend that it makes its own life complicated and burdensome.

The conduct of the circle becomes more exuberant and far-out once Dean Moriarty fully re-enters the fray. The prose grows more poetic and evocative, and the stream-of-consciousness a more frequent feature.

The outlook of some characters, such as Old Bull Lee, might surprise or confuse a few people. Explicit social commentary is offered only sparingly, and is not always about "obvious" topics. The reluctance to take the easy option is one of the most noticeable things about this novel.

It seemed that in this book, Kerouac acquired the knack of imbuing the mundane with drama and nobility, and of placing the everyday alongside the esoteric and the exotic. The "cameos", involving hitch-hikers and other people met along the routes, add charm and variety, and help to form the tapestry, as well as telling us more about the impulses driving the main players.

In amongst the euphoria and the exhilaration which the participants met on their travels, there were periods of disenchantment and despair, when "home", in its conventional sense, seemed the best place to be after all. In between the trips, acquaintances were renewed and the changes absorbed.

Personally, I could take or leave the lengthy passages extolling the virtues of various jazz musicians, and of the source and impact of their artistry, but I accept that they are important in forming an understanding the world of Dean, Sal and company.

Criminality raises its head more and more as the story progresses. They may have been testing the boundaries, but were they in reality flagrantly breaching them? A theme which gradually predominates is the decision of people to shun and ostracize Dean. Of course, Sal was not one of these. I identified with Sal more than I did with Dean, but Dean's story is admittedly more heart-rending, vibrant and eventful.

The chapters set in Mexico are the most stimulating, and in some respects the centrepiece of the whole story. Mexico as a metaphor for the promised land, what these people have been searching for? Needless to say, the ultimate outcome is rather ambiguous.

One of the lessons which I detected in the pages of "On The Road" is that however dismal and monotonous things may appear, there is always something good just around the corner, and there is plenty to relish and savour in the "here and now". Much of the problem is one of perception, and how we have been conditioned to think and approach our lives and the world around us. Life is a never-ending cycle...

This is a novel which it is possible to read quite quickly, as it has a flow to it, and does not compel the reader to take in every semi-colon and comma. Not quite what I was expecting, in all honesty, but equally I enjoyed "On The Road" more than I had anticipated.

Island - Aldous Huxley - book review

I recently read Aldous Huxley's 1962 novel Island, which is often seen as the utopian counterpart to Brave New World. 

This was the first time that I had read any of Huxley's work seriously. I chose Island because the philosophies which seemed to underpin it appealed to me;it is a "novel of ideas", and the ideas propounded here increasingly accord with my own inclinations.

In short, the plot revolves around an English journalist, Will Farnaby, who is shipwrecked on the island of Pala. He is working on behalf of an oil baron. Farnaby is exposed to the way of life on Pala, all of this against the backdrop of negotiations over oil concessions in the region, and with the spectre of invasion by an adjacent, less enlightened, island looming.

Pala is a community which seeks to achieve a fusion of the most enlightened ideas from both Europe and the Orient (the best of both worlds?), standing in contrast to the relentless advance of industrialization, consumerism, tyranny and mass communication in the outside world.

Despite my admiration for the ideals and values which the Palanese espouse, one is left with a feeling of regret and sadness early on in the piece, because of the inevitability of this utopia being trampled on by darker forces, which are intent on bringing the island in line with the misery and injustice being inflicted elsewhere.

To me, there was a real poignancy in reading this story, knowing that noble projects such as that in Pala will find themselves crushed, and dreary and oppressive conformity will be (forcibly) imposed. I say this even allowing for the customary charge that such utopian thinking is naive and "impractical". The feeling of helplessness and resignation is acute . Perhaps the world needs a new "age of enlightenment" - although that would probably be crushed, too....

I had expected Island to contain some criticism of organised Western religion, but was surprised at the vehemence of that criticism. There is much emphasis on Eastern philosophy in the Pala mix. The concepts of "oneness", awareness, mindfulness and so forth are a constant theme here.  

There is I think a case for saying that Huxley was slightly ahead of his time in tackling matters like globalization, ecology and corporatism in such a way. He also makes some prescient observations about the fate of the ex-colonies in the developing world. The Palanese attitude to science and technology is also distinctive - seeking to make it work for the benefit of human freedom and happiness, rather than allowing people to become its prisoners.

A recurring message which I absorbed from this novel was the manner in which fear and insecurity are the main tools by which malign and repressive forces are introduced and embedded in society. Exploiting weaknesses and vices as opposed to harnessing virtues. Cynical, but regrettably highly effective.

Some of the more intriguing aspects of the Palanese vision are the social policies, which differ radically from those seen in the West, especially those concerning population, birth control and the family unit. Considerable space is also allocated to the educational practices and medical procedures designed to minimize and diminish tyrannical and autocratic tendencies in the citizens.

The Will Farnaby character was a little enigmatic to me, although I found his occasionally cynical and sarcastic comments quite endearing. These remarks sometimes made it tricky to discern his true attitudes to what he was absorbing and observing as he spent time in Pala.

As a novel, Island is awkward to appraise, in the conventional sense, but the expounding of ideas is most stimulating. There was less "action" in the narrative than I had anticipated, with the majority of the text taken up by Farnaby's discussions with various Palanese people about how things worked on the island. The geo-political manoeuvrings were more of a backdrop than a centerpiece for the most part. The ending is predictably downbeat and sobering.

As a "novel of ideas", this book is well worth a read.

Doctor Faustus - Thomas Mann - book review

After thoroughly relishing two of Thomas Mann's novels, The Magic Mountain and Buddenbrooks, I decided to move on to Doctor Faustus, published in 1947.

Doctor Faustus tells the life story of a fictional composer, Adrian Leverkuhn, through the narration of his friend Zeitbolm. The narration itself is delivered against the background of the unfolding horrors of the Second World War, allowing much scope for parallels with the time in which the events of the story actually occurred, and with the fate of Leverkuhn. The composer's fate or destiny are not blatantly employed as a direct metaphor for those of Germany, or vice-versa, but the implied comparison adds depth and lustre to the novel.

In the earlier chapters there is much musing on intellectual, cultural and socio-political matters. At first reading, these can seem like tangents or diversions, but they make sense in the end, both in terms of how the plot develops and in providing some background context on the times in which Leverkuhn, Zeitbolm and their contemporaries lived and worked. They serve too as indicators of how the composer was beginning to stand out from the crowd even in his formative years, in his outlook on life and culture.

In stating the above, I must confess to having found Doctor Faustus quite heavy going up until around the halfway point. Certainly when compared to the more "fluent" and accessible delights of The Magic Mountain and Buddenbrooks, it can feel like this one takes an inordinate amount of time to "happen". The writing style and language are more impenetrable and less flowing.The passages which abound with musical technicalities, theory and jargon may not be to everyone's taste. Concentration and persistence are required, but one is rewarded towards the conclusion, as the fog disperses.

My impression, rightly or wrongly, was that Mann (via the narrator) left the main aspects of the story, namely Leverkuhn's mental afflictions and his supposed pact with sinister supernatural forces, ever so slightly ambiguous, and up to the reader to weigh and interpret.

As with the other Thomas Mann novels which I have encountered, the characters have depth and plausibility, and the author goes to great lengths to illustrate and convey their traits and characteristics. As this story progresses, the social circle of the composer and his associates becomes more familiar and intriguing, more central to the narrative,  and there are a few notable sub-plots, which enrich and augment the picture considerably by vividly depicting the social mores and hang-ups of this artistic and academic "community".

So, not as immediately enjoyable as the other Thomas Mann novels which I have read, but an imaginative and stimulating piece of work, displaying all the hallmarks which make him such an important and powerful writer.

Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse

About three years ago, not long after being treated for depression, I read Hermann Hesse's novel "Siddhartha", and it had a profound effect upon me. The events and philosophies detailed in the book gave me hope and encouragement, and reminded me that the world, and this life, were still beautiful and precious. Just recently I re-read "Siddhartha", as part of a tentative effort to once again "reboot" my life.

 

In brief, the novel follows the eponymous character on a journey of self-discovery and spiritual exploration. He craves enlightenment, but comes to recognise that this cannot be attained via the teachings of others. It has to come from within, and we must find our own path, our own truths, and that the voices come from within - the "bird in the breast".

 

It is not difficult to appreciate why "Siddhartha" so captured the imagination of counter-cultural circles on both sides of the Atlantic in the decades which followed World War Two. Its message of liberation from doctrine, tradition and hierarchy, of arriving "there" by ourselves, was warmly embraced by a ready audience.

 

The renunciation of material possessions was of course also a favoured theme of the Sixties, but Siddhartha's quest does not perhaps follow the totally ascetic and self-denying course which some might expect (and/or hope). It seems he took the view that one needs to be immersed in "real life" to see the emptiness of some parts of it. All part of the process of conquering the "self"?

 

It was noticeable how some aspects of the story assumed greater prominence for me just recently, and which did not loom as large when I first read "Siddhartha".  One is the implication that more knowledge or learning can be imparted in one kiss or physical embrace than by slavishly studying some exalted text or tome. Events in my own personal life since 2011 have made me more receptive and empathetic to such things.

 

Also, Hesse mentions that a "game" can only last so long before it becomes stale and repetitive. We must have a goal, a path, a greater aim. As in all things, we need a balance, between keeping grounded and striving for a higher fulfilment.. This is something that many people, myself included, often overlook to our detriment.

 

Siddhartha's dreams are occasionally enlisted to convey symbolism, often to signpost the next stage in his odyssey. As in many of his stories, Hesse's language is organic, vivid but economical, evoking the vitality and the essence of life. These ingredients all help to make his work so enchanting and inspiring.

 

As with the many Hesse works which draw inspiration from Eastern philosophies, the themes of renewal, rebirth, cycles, the transient nature of things, and the essential harmony or "one-ness" of life and nature feature prominently here, as does a simple but profound love of all things.

 

Towards the end, as Siddhartha renews acquaintance with the ferryman, the river is used as a metaphor for life, being, "the moment", one's path, destiny, however we choose to interpret them. The arrival of Siddhartha's son is symbolic; the father's search coming to an end, and the offspring beginning his.

 

Some other important nuggets which I drew concerned the nature of time, the removal of fear and the limitations of words in expressing and explaining truth and wisdom. In time, Siddhartha came to terms with ordinary people, their preoccupations and their loves. This for me was one of the most important sub-plots, and consistent with the "unexpected" character of the journey.

 

Interestingly, the "lesson" which resonated with me was - don't try too hard, or you may miss something which is right in front of you.  Instead, listen and be receptive....

 

"Siddhartha" did not have quite the same emotional impact on me this time around.  This is not surprising, since it was not new to me, and I am a different person now from the one who was engrossed by it three or four years ago. However, I still found it invigorating and instructive.  Recommended reading for anyone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Buddenbrooks - Thomas Mann - book review

After finishing "The Magic Mountain", I was sufficiently enthused to immediately seek out Thomas Mann's first novel, "Buddenbrooks", published in 1901.

"Buddenbrooks" chronicles the fortunes, and gradual decline, of an affluent north German merchant family, and its social circle, during the nineteenth century. This is set against the backdrop of social and political changes in Germany and the wider world. The socio-political stuff is not at the forefront of the narrative, but it does form part of the fabric of the story, and the effects of change are occasionally evident in the dialogue between characters and their attitudes towards their elders or contemporaries. Possibly the most overt manifestation is in the chapters which address the upheavals and ferment of 1848.

One thing which "Buddenbrooks" exudes is evidence of diligent research and a grasp of the world in which such a family existed. This was a multi-faceted world, and it was rarely simply a case of one generation, or one social class, being at odds with another. The notion that all groups were moving in certain directions, as part of some uniformly seismic shift,  is quietly dispelled here I think.

Often the outlook of individuals was determined largely by their upbringing, their associations and their obligations within an extended family. It was still a world of deference, where people tended to "know their place". Many had no incentive to be worldly-wise or enlightened, because they were insulated, reliant on others, or did not truly own themselves. It was often only the disturbance of the equilibrium by some extraneous jolt which upset this "comfort zone".

The thought passed through my mind that although the social conventions which prevailed in those days were stifling, they also ensured a kind of stability and security - provided you were born into the right measure of prosperity and influence. It must be borne in mind that not all people enjoyed the privileges and the relative certainty of outcome of the Buddenbrooks.

The pivotal characters for me in the novel are Tom (Thomas) and Tony (Antonie). Both are superbly rounded and convincing creations, full of contradictions, flawed but also admirable. Their experiences and viewpoints form the backbone of the story as they struggle, sometimes in harmony, sometimes at odds, to keep things together.

Some of Tom's reflections are quite revealing. He appears to recognise some of the anomalies and injustices of the world in which he operates, but either can not, or will not, bring himself to confront them, partly because of the underlying need to "keep up appearances". Difficult decisions were avoided because of the tethers of loyalty and obligation. Set against this landscape, perhaps things were always going to change slowly.

Another character who I found captivating was "Hanno", the son of Thomas Buddenbrook, who showed little interest in his father's world of commerce, and instead found refuge in music and the arts. This invokes the age-old examination of the tension between the "bohemian" outlook and the bourgeois existence. Countless authors have explored this area, but it never gets old or tired.

The chapter set in Hanno's school provides a window on some of the emergent trends as the nineteenth century wore on, with some young people unwilling to subscribe unquestioningly to the ways and the values of their elders. Insubordination had always been there in some form, but were the new ideas of that time just more coherent and potent?

The one character who I found curious was "Morten", with whom Antonie has some contact quite early on in the piece. I was expecting him to return in a major way at a later stage, but he didn't.  He had some profound things to say in his brief appearances. However, when I think about it, the fact that he was something of a "red herring" actually enriches the overall.

Even though this novel could be seen as somewhat downbeat, in that it deals largely with decay and misfortune, I found it uplifting and moving, in its celebration of human foibles, the richness of life and the stoicism and resilience of people. For all its depiction of momentous social change, it is also quite simply a magnificent piece of story-telling.

On my first reading, I did not fully take in the significance and relevance of the author's unusually diligent concentration on the personal appearance, characteristics and mien of many of the characters.  Much symbolism to be savoured there, methinks.  That calls for a second reading of "Buddenbrooks", then....