Steppenwolf

We all look for book recommendations from myriad sources. Brett McKay and his Art of Manliness world served as the source for this recommendation. (Side note: If you're looking for a well-rounded list of 100 books, crossing genres and ranging classic to contemporary, McKay's 100 books that every man should read is a good list.)

Put differently, Steppenwolf is not a title I would likely have picked up on my own. Like most books, though, I find value in having read it.

Hesse's work with the duality of one's personality or, more aptly, the multiplicity of one's personality, was the highlight of this work. Who hasn't struggled with their identity, wondering which of numerous roles takes center stage? In my own life, am I a father? Husband? Entrepreneur? Professor? Researcher? The answer, generally, is “yes.” The deciding variable is where I find myself at any given moment.

Hesse deals more with our primal natures vs. our more refined, cultivated identities. That we have an introverted, more animalistic, almost visceral nature isn't exactly groundbreaking, but the character's turmoil over when and how to give that nature it's fair share is an interesting take.

I find myself deficient in my knowledge of European history between the world wars. Hesse works toward commentary on the bourgeois, and I'll admit that I'm missing something. That said, it's easy to pick up on the element of longing in the text. Haller's revulsion toward all things bourgeois is, at the same time, his (to himself) inexplicable inclination toward it. The protagonist sees no meaning in the mundane trivialities of the bourgeoisie, yet he is frustrated when an aimless railing against it offers no meaning. “Meaning,” then, is what we make of it, and Haller can't quite get to the realization that the bourgeoisie have made their own sufficient meaning of life. Seeing emptiness in all things breeds emptiness in oneself.

Though I am unaware of any direct influence, Haller's listlessness prior to meeting Hermine appears in a more modern tone in Richard Yates' Revolutionary Road. The Frank Wheeler character just knows he's meant for more, yet he finds that he's meant for exactly the reality that he creates. He longs for more than just middle class, yet as life goes on, one realizes he/she has built something pretty special in the carrying out of the day-to-day.

By the end of Steppenwolf, I find myself questioning the meaning of it, while at the same time satisfied with what I think its meaning is. Perhaps that's exactly Hesse's intent.