Siddharta - Hermann Hesse

SIDDHARTHA

By Herman Hesse

Translated by Hilda Rosner

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born in 1877 in Calw, on the edge of the Black Forest, HERMANN HESSEwas brought up in a missionary household where it was assumed that hewould study for the ministry. Hesse's religious crisis (which is often recordedin his novels) led to his fleeing from the Maulbronn seminary in 1892, anunsuccessful cure by a well-known theologian and faith healer, and anattempted suicide. After being expelled from high school, he worked inbookshops for several years - a usual occupation for budding Germanauthors.His first novel, Peter Camenzind (1904), describes the early manhoodof a writer who leaves his Swiss mountain village to encounter the world.This was followed by Beneath the Wheel (1906), the story of a giftedadolescent crushed by the brutal expectations of his father and teachers, anovel which was Hesse's personal attack on the educational system of histime.World War I came as a terrific shock, and Hesse joined the pacifistRomain Rolland in antiwar activities--not only writing antiwar tracts andnovels, but editing newspapers for German prisoners of war. During thisperiod, Hesse's first marriage broke up (reflected or discussed outright inKnulp and Rosshalde), he studied the works of Freud, eventually underwentanalysis with Jung, and was for a time a patient in a sanatorium.In 1919 he moved permanently to Switzerland, and brought outDemian, which reflects his preoccupation with the workings of thesubconscious and with psychoanalysis. The book was an enormous success,and made Hesse famous throughout Europe.In 1922 he turned his attention to the East, which he had visitedseveral times before the war, and wrote Siddhartha, the story of an Indianyouth's long spiritual quest for the answer to the enigma of man's role onthis earth. In 1927 he wrote Steppenwolf, the account of a man torn betweenhis individualism and his attraction to bourgeois respectability, and hisconflict between self-affirmation and self-destruction. In 1930 he publishedNarcissus and Goldmund, regarded as "Hesse's greatest novel" (The NewYork Times), dealing with the friendship between two medieval priests, onecontented with his religion, the other a wanderer endlessly in search ofpeace and salvation.The Journey to the East appeared in 1932, and there was no majorwork until 1943, when he brought out Magister Ludi, which won him theNobel Prize in 1946. Until his death in 1962 he lived in seclusion inMontagnola, Switzerland.

Part One

SiddharthaThe Brahmin's Son

In the shade of the house, in the sunshine on the river bank by the boats, inthe shade of the sallow wood and the fig tree, Siddhartha, the handsomeBrahmin's son, grew up with his friend Govinda. The sun browned hisslender shoulders on the river bank, while bathing at the holy ablutions, atthe holy sacrifices. Shadows passed across his eyes in the mango groveduring play, while his mother sang, during his father's teachings, when withthe learned men. Siddhartha had already long taken part in the learnedmen's conversations, had engaged in debate with Govinda and hadpracticed the art of contemplation and meditation with him. Already he knewhow to pronounce Om silently - this word of words, to say it inwardly withthe intake of breath, when breathing out with all his soul, his brow radiatingthe glow of pure spirit. Already he knew how to recognize Atman within thedepth of his being, indestructible, at one with the universe.There was happiness in his father's heart because of his son who wasintelligent and thirsty for knowledge; he saw him growing up to be a greatlearned man, a priest, a prince among Brahmins.There was pride in his mother's breast when she saw him walking,sitting down and rising: Siddhartha - strong, handsome, supple-limbed,greeting her with complete grace.Love stirred in the hearts of the young Brahmins' daughters whenSiddhartha walked through the streets of the town, with his lofty brow, hisking-like eyes and his slim figure.Govinda, his friend, the Brahmin's son, loved him more than anybodyelse. He loved Siddhartha's eyes and clear voice. He loved the way hewalked, his complete grace of movement; he loved everything thatSiddhartha did and said, and above all he loved his intellect, his fine ardentthoughts, his strong will, his high vocation. Govinda knew that he would notbecome an ordinary Brahmin, a lazy sacrificial official, an avaricious dealerin magic sayings, a conceited worthless orator, a wicked sly priest, or just agood stupid sheep amongst a large herd. No, and he, Govinda, did notwant to become any of these, not a Brahmin like ten thousand others of theirkind. He wanted to follow Siddhartha, the beloved, the magnificent. And ifhe ever became a god, if he ever entered the All-Radiant, then Govindawanted to follow him as his friend, his companion, his servant, his lancebearer, his shadow.That was how everybody loved Siddhartha. He delighted and madeeverybody happy.