Books About Books · Reviews

“Eine Bibliothek der Weltliteratur” by Hermann Hesse

Quite in the same way as I did not expect Kant to be amusing, I certainly did not expect Hermann Hesse to be this… approachable. Yet again I seem to have dived into someone’s body of work without beforehand reading anything about them. I mean, I had heard of Hesse before, of his brilliance, but I had never heard a word about his tone, his writing. Let’s just say I have ordered a copy of Siddhartha and will be searching for some sort of biography soon (any recommendations?). I am sure his fiction will sound different from his essays, but I really enjoyed his voice, or at least the one from the translation that somehow found its way to me.
“I’m always so ashamed when I discover how well-read other people are and how ignorant I am in comparison.”
I thought that the feeling so straightforwardly articulated above by the wonderful Helene Hanff would come as a consequence of going through this collection of considerations, but I am pleased to report that Hesse made me feel completely at home. It read almost like a conversation, really, and quite an enjoyable and enlightening one.

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