I became a Hermann Hesse fan in high school, having read his book “Narcissus And Goldmund.” And, in case you’re wondering, I’m writing this piece in response to Florida’s insane book-banning attempts. Hesse’s two books, Narcissus and Goldmund, and Damian both which I read several times and loved, helped me to understand myself a little better, and to realize that I was not a Narcissus, but rather a Goldmund… a Goldmund type of free spirit, who wanted to travel, pursue his art, and be a member of no social order, responsible for no one.
Here is a segment of Wiki’s “book report” –
– Narcissus, a gifted young teacher at the cloister school, quickly befriends Goldmund, as they are only a few years apart, and Goldmund is naturally bright. Goldmund looks up to Narcissus, and Narcissus has much fondness for him in return. After straying too far in the fields one day on an errand gathering herbs, Goldmund comes across a beautiful Gypsy woman, who kisses him and invites him to make love. This encounter becomes his epiphany; he now knows he was never meant to be a monk. With Narcissus’ help, he leaves the monastery and embarks on a wandering existence.
At this point, gentle reader, I invite you to skip down four paragraphs if you aren’t interested in delving into the rich story line of Narcissus & Goldmund. I have to tell you though, it helps one to understand why I found, and still find Goldmund to be so engaging, so easy to relate to. and why I continue to associate myself with him.
Hermann Hesse
Goldmund finds he is very attractive to women, (that part was not me…) and has numerous love affairs. After seeing a particularly beautiful carved Madonna in a church, he feels his own artistic talent awakening and seeks out the master carver, with whom he studies for several years.
However, in the end, Goldmund refuses an offer of guild membership, preferring the freedom of the road. When the Black Death devastates the region, Goldmund encounters human existence at its ugliest. Finally, after being imprisoned for having an affair with the wife of the city governor and condemned to be executed, he is saved by and reunited with his friend Narcissus, now an abbot. The two reflect upon the different paths their lives have taken, contrasting the artist with the thinker.
Like most of Hesse’s works, the main theme of this book is the wanderer’s struggle to find himself, as well as the Jungian union of polar opposites. Goldmund represents nature and the “feminine conscious mind” (but also anima, a man’s unconscious), while Narcissus represents science and logic and God and the “masculine conscious mind” (but also animus, a woman’s unconscious).
These “feminine” and “masculine” qualities are drawn from the Jungian archetypal structure, and is reminiscent of some of his earlier works, especially Demian. Throughout the novel, Goldmund increasingly becomes aware of memories of his own mother, which ultimately results in his desire to return to the Urmutter (primordial mother). However, he also tries to reconcile the Apollonian and Dionysian ideals through art (giving form to the formless).
“To hold our tongues when everyone is gossiping, to smile without hostility at people and institutions, to compensate for the shortage of love in the world with more love in small, private matters; to be more faithful in our work, to show greater patience, to forgo the cheap revenge obtainable from mockery and criticism: all these are things we can do.”
–Hermann Hesse
“Whoever wants music instead of noise, joy instead of pleasure, soul instead of gold, creative work instead of business, passion instead of foolery, finds no home in this trivial world of ours.”
~Hermann Hesse
“To hold our tongues when everyone is gossiping, to smile without hostility at people and institutions, to compensate for the shortage of love in the world with more love in small, private matters; to be more faithful in our work, to show greater patience, to forgo the cheap revenge obtainable from mockery and criticism: all these are things we can do.”
~Hermann Hesse
B & me, caught next to a post with a Hermann Hesse poster in Munich
“The doctrine you desire, absolute, perfect dogma that alone provides wisdom, does not exist. Nor should you long for a perfect doctrine, my friend. Rather, you should long for the perfection of yourself. The deity is within you, not in ideas and books. Truth is lived, not taught.”
–Hermann Hesse, The Glass Bead Game (1943)
I started reading The Glass Bead Game when I was 20. I never finished it as I didn’t understand a lot of it. Perhaps I should try it again, now.
Anyway, one of my favorite thoughts of Hesse’s was how he made Goldmund to be the way Goldmund was… that is, a dedicated artist, who gave form to the formless. That is exactly what I tried to do with music, and with writing. Giving form to the formless, making the intangible tangible is, for me, where the magic of creativity lies. If Hermann Hesse had written nothing else, that would have been enough for me, for I ran with that idea, of giving form to the formless, for my whole life.
I have long believed that we exist in a time and place that always has access to a different, better time and place. That’s the best way I can put it. That “better time and place” I’m referring to is, in my mind, a better place because the artistic ideas we bring to life in this reality, seem to come from that reality. And only some of us are aware of it and have access to it. That makes it, in my mind anyway, quite magical.
I believe this idea to be true as I’ve experienced creating music, from time to time, that cannot possibly exist in my mind. I know my mind fairly well, and much of the good ideas that somehow come out of it could not possibly come from me, but through me… many of my musical ideas have to come from some other place, and I become simply the interpreter of those ideas.
Quite a few jazz musicians I know agree with this thought, to one degree or another, And I seriously doubt that they’ve read any Hesse. Not that Hesse is required reading for artists, but he certainly knew, and wrote about, what defines artists, what drives them.
Check out this quote from John Williams, of movie score fame – “ I think if we ourselves as writers get out of the way and let the flow happen and not get uptight about it, so to speak, the muses will carry us along.”
And with that, I rest my case. When Hermann Hesse and John Williams have my back on this topic, I have, at the very least, explained why Hermann Hesse has been, and remains important to me. And it seems that, in the process, we have stumbled upon the subject of creativity and where it comes from, and have posed an argument for the possibility of another dimension, and perhaps another, better world. Not bad for a wandering blog post that set out to honor and explain a great German-Swiss writer.
Anyway, Thanks, Hermann. Maybe soon I’ll give The Glass Bead Game another go.
Steve Hulse
