I just finished this book. I was home, still feeling a bit sick today, but better than the day before, and I read about half of it today, taking breaks between chapters to fully absorb what I was reading. I can still feel the stiffness of dried tears on my face.
As soon as I began reading this book earlier in the week, I realized that I was going to be taking a different approach than I normally do when I read. Rather than consuming this, I was going to need to take it slower- there was so much to contemplate. I am not sure that I have read anything that was crafted in such a way that every single sentence mattered so much. Most books I've read have their message delivered in paragraphs or in a page, perhaps even in a chapter, but not Siddhartha. I found myself reading slowly, pausing often, to consider what was being said. I do not believe a word is out of place in the entire book. The language is not overly complicated at all, but it is perfect for communicating the complexity of the ideas in the clearest way.
I am sitting here, trying to think of how I even begin to say what I should about this book. In all honesty, I am not sure that I can. There was too much that I thought about, too much that made me question, too much that moved me. I felt I understood Siddhartha, his inner struggle, his desire to know, his trust in his own path (oh, I can relate so personally to this, as I never follow the path prescribed to me, but instead listen to what I think is best), the respect and acknowledgment of the need for each individual to find his or her own path to the destiny that awaits him or her (towards the end)... It connected with me in a way I have maybe never felt before. The cyclical search from (and of) birth to death and the understanding of the oneness of everything, the necessity of pain and pleasure to coexist, the understanding of the mirrors of his path to his son's, and the peace that the connectedness of it all delivers to Siddhartha literally had me weeping. When he, with his ferryman sitting beside him, finally understands and the "blossoming of his pain" occurs (which sounds like a terrible thing but is truly the greatest wisdom) and he reaches peace, the peace he has sought throughout his life, it just completely overtook me. I can't explain it fully and if you've read it, I'm guessing I don't have to. Oh this blurb is so inadequate really, but if I discussed even half of what I thought and felt while reading Siddhartha, I'd be typing for hours!
If you haven't read it, I hope you'll consider it. This is a masterpiece. I will never forget it and I most certainly will need to read more from Hermann Hesse. I am so very glad to have read it.
