  Boring, 2009-10-20
Not much more to it than that, I'm afraid. It's dull almost from the first page, and gets duller. As other reviewers have noted, the central character is neither sympathetic (doesn't need to be) nor even interesting (does need to be). He's a pub bore; or an over-aged student bar bore, to be more accurate, who has read enough to be full of himself, but has failed to acquire the judgement and understanding along the way to say anything worth listening to. This is mostly noise, and smacks of someone with too much time on his hands, too little need to dirty his hands with life, and too many admirers.
The Haller character and the author, assuming Hesse accepts at least some responsibility for his character's musings, are self-indulgent to an extreme and not very good thinkers. The big ideas offered here, set up by pages of build-up, are tiny ideas. Hardly worth musing over, let alone taking to heart. Hesse said this was his most misunderstood book; misunderstood by fans and critics alike. So what did he want us to understand by it? The plot? That's easy, as far as it goes, which is not far. The philosophising? Banal. The message of redemption? Whatever.
There is no level for me on which this book works. If there is a real message in there waiting to get out, I missed it. I was bored into submissioin long before it poked its nose out from wherever it was hiding. Some reviewers praise the exploration of self and identity. Yes, but those themes are far more incisively explored in far more rewarding works than this, both intellectually and as narratives - give me Hamlet, Great Expectations, Huck Finn, Grapes of Wrath, etc, etc, etc any day.
The back cover of my edition claims that this book was "The hip bible of the 1960s counterculture." And still I handed over my money, intrigued to know who and what this Hesse was about. My fault.
Manifesto for our time, 2010-03-09
The Steppenwolf, the wolf from the steppe, is the misanthropic Harry Haller, and this is written as his diary, or confessions. Haller has reached middle age, and neither a conventional lifestyle nor pure intellectual pursuits can sustain him anymore. But just as he is about to kill himself, earthly pleasures beckon as our protagonist meets the dancer Hermine and her shadowy partner in pleasure Pablo. Haller is sucked into a phantasmagorical chase, a final gamble for reconciliation of the man and beast within him, of the multi-faceted self that is cast back at him as from a broken mirror.
Part psychology and part allegory, the Steppenwolf is the story of Haller's redemption by Hermine and at the same time a denial of simple formulas. It rejects no path and despises no one for the choices they make. In this sense it is thoroughly modern, as it is in its Epicureanism. And if, in its allegorical style, it is thoroughly out of fashion (realism, veracity, research are in, philosophising is out), such is Herman Hesse's writing that at no point does the book seem belaboured. Hesse commented that of all his novels, this is the one that has been the most misunderstood. Of course, in our relativistic age, all interpretations are equally valid. But the author also warned that: `in most cases the author is not the right authority to decide on where the reader ceases to understand and the misunderstanding begins.' Steppenwolf is a work to reflect on. It is also funny, though only in the way that Kafka can be funny: sarcastic, dark, and at the same time poignant. Indeed, it shares something of the timelessness of Kafka, the mix of seriousness and levity, of realism and parable. Steppenwolf was a prescient work. It is both challenging and easy to read: just what our time needs.
One of the greatest books I have ever read - Hesse's poetic writing is without parallel, 2007-11-22
This was the first of Hesse's books that I ever read, and at a very young age. Perhaps because I still had the imagination of a child the poetry of his writing completely took me over - without his special way of expressing ideas and emotions and just putting words together it would have been just a fairly strange story. I was hooked, and even though some of his other writings did not 'hit' me quite as much (how could they, after this masterpiece!), I eventually found my way through most of his writing, with gems such as Narziss and Goldmund and The Glass Bead game also making their own special mark on my 'mindset', changing me for ever. Having said that, Steppenwolf was the first and for me therefore best piece of poetic writing I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying. I have read and owned it several times, only to lose it to another 'convert' once they had 'borrowed' and read it.... I'm keeping hold of my current copy for ever!!!
Outcasts bible, 2009-07-04
Story;suicidal bachelor discovers rock'n'roll lifestyle.
I found this a depressing book and just what a melancholic German would write in a moment of existential angst.That so many people read so much into it....well they would would'nt they.But it is well written,obviously a comfort to many,and is a fairly short read with some nice philosophy and prose so why not give it a go.
Contains a really good description, 2009-12-01
To start with I thought this was pretty good. Lots of crowd-pleasing misanthropy - I mean, who doesn't hate mankind?
Also, I remember there was a really good description of a pot plant on a stairwell. Or maybe I'm confusing it with the aspidistra in Keep the Aspidistra Flying. Whether it was in Steppenwolf or not, it was still one of the best descriptions I've read. I would put it up there with the bit in Far From the Madding Crowd where Gabriel Oak makes a hole in a sheep's stomach to let out the lethal gas inside its guts, which I recall whenever my irritable bowel syndrome plays up.
However, I lost interest in Steppenwolf just before Steppenwolf goes inside the enigmatic cafe bar in downtown Paris. Or Casablanca. Where the book is set, anyway.
I just couldn't imagine that anything exciting enough to warrant reading another eighty-odd pages could take place in a cafe bar. Let's face it - it was going to be some cabaret. That's the only thing you will ever see in a cafe bar. And no cabaret on earth is worth over seventy pages of reading.
After giving up I was left feeling a bit annoyed because I wouldn't be able to boast about having read the book. And I had really been looking forward to that.
Subsequently though, I have managed to boast about those early bits of the book I can remember, which is basically the hating of mankind and the pot plant. So it wasn't a total waste of time.
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