Did not the ancient source of all springs flow within his own heart? This was what must be found, the fountainhead within one’s own being; you had to make it your own! All else was searching, detour, confusion.
He looked around as if seeing the world for the first time. How beautiful it was, how colorful, how strange and mysterious! Here was blue, here was yellow, here was green; sky and river were flowing; forests and mountains stood fixed: Everything was beautiful, everything mysterious and magical, and in the midst of all this was he, Siddhartha, in the moment of his awakening, on the path to himself.
Most people are like a falling leaf as it twists and turns its way through the air, lurches and tumbles to the ground. Others, though – a very few – are like stars set on a fixed course; no wind can reach them, and they carry their law and their path within them.
Στιγμές στιγμές εμπνευσμένο, στιγμές στιγμές αδιάφορο.
It is a journey of self-awareness and inner exploration. If one reads it at a young age, it may even change his life. However, from a certain point in time onwards, it is difficult for anyone to identify with the ideas and teachings of Hesse.
In general, it is a possible read, but not excellent in my opinion. The book contains some inspiring moments, but also some rather indifferent ones. The story takes the reader on a path of self-discovery, yet as time passes, the relevance of its message may fade for some. While it has its merits, it may not reach the highest echelons of literary greatness. Nevertheless, it still holds value for those who are willing to embark on this particular journey of the mind and soul.
This was the third book that I was reading.
The first book was Demian, which was difficult to read and a bit cold. I didn't like it when I was reading it.
The second book, the story of my friend, had relatively smooth literature, but like Demian, it was cold! It couldn't establish a good connection with its world.
And now the third book, Siddhartha...
Before I went to it, I had heard a lot of descriptions about it, and it had even been recommended to me many times from non-Persian sources.
I went to it with the expectations of a masterpiece, but well, it didn't happen... For me, it wasn't as it should have been. Because all the beliefs and philosophical frameworks in my mind, regarding life, regarding love and enjoying life, were completely in conflict with this book!
Page by page and line by line, I endured the pain of the feeling I had towards its text!
Neither Brahmanical beliefs were understandable to me, nor Shamanic ideas!
Neither do I have a happy heart from apostates, nor am I interested in Buddhism!
And I believe that in life, just as we are in pursuit of discovering the real self, we should also use and benefit from the pleasures and essence of the world!
The asceticism, Brahmanism, Shamanism, Buddhism, and behaviors such as causing harm to the body, covering the eyes from the pleasures of the world, anger at sexual desires, disregard for wealth, and neglect of the body, etc., which are talked about a lot in this book, are not in line with my desires and parallel to my line of thinking!
The next point is that Hesse writes very difficultly! Every hundred pages of his book carry as much potential and energy as two hundred pages of other books!
Now combine this difficult writing with Soroush Habibi's translation! What happens!
The book has been translated very poetically, to the extent that it touches the heart!
I'm not saying it's not beautiful, it is beautiful. Honestly, there were sentences and pages in the book that perhaps I had never read like them in other works, but it was now too poetical, it had too many non-ordinary sentences, and I was very annoyed!
Or maybe I didn't have enough taste to understand the greatness of the book and the beauty of its prose! :)
I feel that anyone who reads this writing will definitely block me! Because almost all the criticisms of this book are described from it! :))
But believe me, to the extent that I could endure! I could write more quickly and more forcefully! :))
I don't mean to bother you, neither Hesse is my author, nor Siddhartha is my book, nor Soroush Habibi is my translator!
I don't belong to this world! :))
Unfortunately, I have two other books by Hesse that, since I paid for them, of course I'm forced to read them! :))
I suggest you don't rely on my tasteless words, read the opinions of other friends as well, and evaluate the book yourself.
But I didn't like it! I'm giving it two stars...
“Well, haven't you read 'Siddhartha'?”, my friend asked me. Now, I gritted my teeth and looked at her with a gaze full of contempt.
I was ready to stick out my tongue, hiss, grind my teeth and bite her, really give her a piece of my mind. But wait, I hadn't read 'Siddhartha' and I didn't know how I should behave.
“No, I haven't read it. I don't go for the Germans. A holocaust, two world wars, three memorials...”, I mumbled through my teeth and immediately rushed to the nearest bookstore to find the first 'Siddhartha' that would fall into my hands.
“Siddhartha”, then... An Indian fable as a subtitle. So I start, with a heavy heart and extremely prejudiced. No, it's impossible for a German to have a soul. So what if he won the Nobel? Don't we know the clicks and the means by which all the awards are given? To us now?
I read the first page, okay I say... “slowly does it”. Big sentences, some lyrical descriptions, a confusing vocabulary... Okay big guy, we got it... And I continue because besides being a snake with a poisonous tongue, I'm also a compulsive snake. I don't leave a book unfinished.
What a spell did I fall under, my friend? How many life lessons in so few pages? After this book, I'm definitely not the same snake. I changed my snakeskin, I'm afraid I became a better snake, more tolerant, more loveable, wiser... My God, how will I bite now?
The young Siddhartha, together with his friend Govinda, leaves his father, his tribe, his homeland in search of the supreme truth. From the son of a Brahmin, he becomes a samana, knows pleasure with the courtesan Kamala, gives away his wealth to become a ferryman, knows his unknown son only to lose him... Oh! It's one of those books where the plot has absolutely no meaning. The story is just the pretext to tell you everything it has to tell you.
Advice... Be ready for a journey of philosophy, search, self-discovery... This is not an easy thing... Only if you are ready to dive deep, to read it... otherwise it's a pity to burn it. It's not “heavy” in the classical sense of the word... I believe, I want to believe, that it can be read by almost everyone, as long as they are ready, with an open mind and even more, an open heart. And have a fluorescent marker next to you... to underline... again and again...
So you see, even the Germans have brains... and what brains!!! After all this, you understand that it's a book that goes beyond comparisons and ratings.