Immerse In Viagem Ao País Da Manhã Drafted By Hermann Hesse Presented In EPub

is another book I read in the early seventies when, as is usual for a child of this misinformationist postwar age, I was actively engaged in searching for a solid reality among the eras castoff debris.


Not a bad book, but a sorta garden path book, by the blind leading the blind,

Following Hesse particularly, somewhat as a dazed and semidelusional lapdog weaves a desultorily crooked line to keep pace with its master, I seem to have insisted on such frivolously arcane fiction as my only possible panacea for brute reality.


But all it did was cast me further adrift, . .

Here a little dog I pause
Heaving up my prior paws
Pause and sleep endlessly, . .

Little cats and dogs all must
Like chimney sweepers,
Come to dust,

Well, this fictional seque from my Quest into a sybaritic admixture of the factual and fanciful forced me to see the futility of any further tagging along behind a punchdrunk writer.


My own life has perforce stuck to immediate, bargain basement reality, frugal both in tastes and temperament, My meds have shrunk my ego, After a life as Mallarme says, "virgin of expectation," I honestly don't mind coming to dust: but Hesse

Hesse was fast becoming a fallen star in my fanciful firmament, and my initial delight was now turning to dust, just like T.
S. Eliots lamented lapdog.

Lets face it: Kurt Vonnegut was right in calling poor Hermann a secondstring author! All invention no substance,

All of which perfectly summed up the resultantly addled mind of Yours Truly in those septic seventies,

Theres no rest for the wicked: it took me fifty years to see that,

I would bore you to no end if I told you I was to drunkenly circumambulate Mount Purgatory in that same wobbling way until the

nowrecent day when I finally woke up, and climbed it.


You see, it dawned on me that this Mountain was REALLY Frodos Mount Doom, . .

And the only way we can live an awake life:

Is to CLIMB up amp TRASH our Ring of EgoPower in its molten lava FOREVER.
. .

And the sooner the better

Our FINAL unsentimental Journey in stark solitude, and for Hesse, a Road Never Travelled, اون قد نثرش فاخر بود که آدمو دنبال خودش می کشوند و البته حواسشو از داستان پرت میکرد. داستان سهل و راحتی نیس خصوصا که گریزها و تلمیح ها و اشارات زیادی داره که آدمو گیج می کنه. ولی رو هم رفته حال و هواش خوبه. حقیقتا این کتاب هسه زیاد به دلم ننشست. فصل اول این کتاب تا حد خیلی زیادی سخت خوان بود و آدم رو دچار سرگیجه می کرد و خواننده نمی دونست دقیقا چه چیزی رو داره می خونه یا نویسنده دقیقا می خواد چی بگه
توصیه ای که برای هسه خوان ها دارم اینه که اگه این کتاب رو نخونند چیز زیادی رو از دست نمی دن و بهتره که سایر آثار هسه رو بخونن When I first read The Journey to the East in my youth, I was not ready for it, Having just reread it, I must confess that I am still not ready for it, But I am, at least, a little closer to being ready, Hopefully one day I will be ready and then I will read it and smile a wise smile of understanding, I suspect there will also be peace and contentment in my smile and that I will know who I am and why I am here.
But for now, I can only appreciate the wisdom that I halfunderstand,

Perhaps you, dear reader, think I really do understand, That is what I thought when I read it the first time, for I understood the words that were printed on the page, But that is only further proof that I was not ready for it, Now, with the knowledge that I am still not ready, I am closer than I was when I thought I understood,

I feel a kinship with H, H. His weaknesses are my weaknesses, His desires my desires especially his desire to record his journey, And his despair is my despair, Unlike Demian and Siddhartha, this is not a young persons book, The Journey to the East is about the failure of H, H. not only the failure he recognizes, but also the failure he does not recognize, And it is the failure he does not recognize which is the serious one,

Rereading this book now, at the same age Hesse was when he published it, I must acknowledge my own desertion of the journey, my own forgetfulness and unfaithfulness to the league.
I even sold my violin figuratively speaking, And now I long to return, Perhaps my poetic creations, humble though they may be, will one day be more real than I am, Perhaps they already are, and when the last drop of that which is me flows into them, I will be able to lie down and sleep.
This probably shouldnt have been my introduction to Hermann Hesses work, but what can you do I saw the modest little volume at the library and thought: “Gee, I should probably read Steppenwolf or Demian first, but why not whet my appetite with this One book by the Nobel Prize winner should give me a taste of his genius, right”

Um, not quite.
Its an opaque, confounding book about a man named H, H. Im assuming its partly autobiographical who looks back on his time in a mysterious group called “the League, ” Their purpose was to journey to the East which I assume is both a geographical and a spiritual destination involving enlightenment,

Heres a quote about the groups journey:

we not only wandered through Space, but also through Time, We moved towards the East, but we also travelled into the Middle ages and the Golden Age we roamed through Italy or Switzerland, but at times we also spent the night in the tenth century and dwelt with the patriarchs or the fairies.


Um, okay, H, H. If you say so.

H. H. also tells us that members of this League included real people Plato, Mozart, Paul Klee and fictional ones Don Quixote, Tristram Shandy, characters from Hesses books.
Perhaps the book should have been called The Journey To SelfAggrandizement,

Anyhow, for some reason the group splintered after a simple, humble servant named Leo abruptly disappeared, Years later, H. H. meets a person who instantly makes him recall the League, and eventually, after some weird sort of trial, he learns a valuable lesson, Which presumably hes passing on to us in this book,

I suppose if youre heavily into Eastern religion, this book will have meaning for you, Two of my grandparents were Buddhists, and I find it a very soothing, nonjudgemental religion, Parts of this book reminded me of what Salingers Franny experienced as a pilgrim,

Beyond that, I cant say, But then again, Ive never travelled to the Middle Ages, so what do I know "Poet of the Interior Journey"

There was a time in mys when I was obsessed with Hermann Hesse.
I was a Hesse Obsessor, After all, he was regarded highly enough as an author to win the Nobel Prize for Literature in,

Something now lures me back to the novels I read then, "Siddhartha" and "Steppenwolf", However, I thought I would try this one as a "wedgie" or stopgap between more ambitious projects,

In truth, this is more a novella than a novel,

Even burdened by apage introduction by Dr Timothy Leary he coined the term "Poet of the Interior Journey" for Hesse, its less thanpages long.


So, is it any good Yes, well, it's OK,

The Home of Light

There is a suggestion in the title of the novel that, in order to gain spiritual awareness, you must head towards the East.


However, this is not a purely geographical concept, For the West, it doesnt necessarily mean Asia, It is a metaphor:

"We not only wandered through Space, but also through Time, We moved towards the East, but we also travelled into the Middle Ages and the Golden Age, "

The East is where the Sun rises, The East is the Home of Light, the Home of Enlightenment, Even more simply, it is Home:

"Throughout the centuries it had been on the way, towards light and wonder, and each member, each group, indeed our whole host and its great pilgrimage, was only a wave in the eternal stream of human beings, of the eternal strivings of the human spirit towards the East, towards Home.
"

Wisdom and spirituality are not just found in the East, they are found at Home,

Lost Pilgrims

One other thing is implied: we can embark on our spiritual journey individually or we can travel as a collective.


Whichever way we choose, each of us can stray and end up a lost pilgrim,

The collective pilgrimage of Hesse's characters appears to fail and they feel disillusioned, worthless and spiritless:

"There was nothing else left for me to do but to satisfy my last desire: to let myself fall from the edge of the world into the void to death.
"

For them, the confrontation with the void ushers in a suicidal impulse,

The Inevitability of Despair

All along, there is but one enemy, Despair,

The protagonist HHs ambition to write a book about his adventures is based on his desire to escape from Despair:

"It was the only means of saving me from nothingness, chaos and suicide.
"

Despair is not just the experience of Depression for an Individual, It is not just something that the mentally imbalanced suffer from,

All of us have to confront Despair every step of our spiritual journey, In Hesse's eyes, it's a necessary part of the journey:

"Despair is the result of each earnest attempt to go through life with virtue, justice and understanding and to fulfill their requirements.
Children live on one side of despair, the awakened on the other side, "

The Freedom to be Happy

Along HHs path, he imagines the source of his temporal Happiness:

"My happiness arose from the freedom to experience everything imaginable simultaneously to exchange outward and inward easily, to move Time and Space about like scenes in a theatre.
"

Note the fluidity, not just of Space, but of Time, hence the earlier allusion to the Middle Ages and the Golden Age.


You can see the appeal to Timothy Leary, who speculated inaccurately in my opinion that Hesse wrote the novella while on drugs.


Home is Where the Soul Is

Once again, Hesse's spiritual journey transcends geography:

"Our goal was not only the East, or rather the East was not only a country and something geographical, but it was the home and youth of the soul, it was everywhere and nowhere, it was the union of all times.
"

The Journey to the East is not just a journey to Asia, but an Interior Journey, a Journey that begins and ends at Home and with the Self.


This is where we will find true Happiness,

The Disappearing Self

In any spiritual journey, as with any other, we have to be cautious of spoilers.


However, within the theistic framework of the novel, each individual member of the group must merge with the God figure:

"He must grow, I must disappear.
"

The enemy of Spirituality is the persistence of the Self or Selfishness,

Ultimately, it seems that Hesses message is that we must transcend the Self, embrace a Universal Love and become one with that Love, if you like, a God.


We don't need to go elsewhere to achieve this,

The best place to seek the Self and Universal Love is at Home, the Home of the Soul, Journey to the East is written from the point of view of a man called H, H. He joins an organization called “The League", a religious sect made up of whose famous fictional and real characters, The journey starts out well with the group f members enthusiastic and happy, However, a crisis occurs at a mountain gorge called Morbio Inferiore, Leo apparently just a servant disappears which results in the group falling into crisis and ultimately breaking apart causing the group to break up losing their belief in the league.


H. H wanders around for years in depression and a sense of failure until he meets Leo again, Then H. H must face a trial and test of his faith, The story is a Christian allegory where H, H faith is tested. Its a story about failure, depression, hope and ultimately in what you believe and how do you want to live, That's an extraordinary book, disconcerting even, It is charging with spirituality at the frontiers of reality, But unfortunately, it is also a somewhat ancient text because of its simple past, which gives it a pompous and outdated look,
It was not a blow to the heart far from there, but I appreciated the poetry in this work, Um grupo de membros de uma misteriosa Ordem participa numa viagem única, cujo fim não é alcançar um destino geográfico mas uma outra dimensão da realidade.
Tratase, afinal, de uma viagem iniciática e de autoconhecimento, em que os seus participantes vão ser testados, sem o saberem, quanto à sua fidelidade, crença, amor fraterno, e sobretudo quanto à sua fé na Ordem a que pertencem.
São adeptos e irmãos nesta Ordem que, mais do que religiosa se pressente espiritual muitos personagens do domínio da História, das artes e dos próprios escritos de Hesse, como o pintor Paul Klee, Alberto Magno, o pintor Klingsor, o poeta Lauscher ou o barqueiro Vasudeva, bem como o próprio Hermann Hesse, que é protagonista nesta viagem em concreto.
Todos eles participaram outrora nesta singular viagem, pertencente a um incessante movimento que desde sempre percorre os tempos, e em cujas fileiras todos os grandes nomes podem, a certo momento, encontrarse.
No entanto, este é apenas o primeiro de muitos segredos que o leitor destas páginas irá descobrir, Escrito como uma fábula e com um desfecho inesperado e surpreendente, este livro encoraja o leitor a desconfiar da realidade visível, que pode levar a um quotidiano cinzento e a impor uma visão altaneira e preconceituosa sobre o mundo, propondolhe, ao invés, e através de um nomadismo radical e interior, uma viagem perpétua em busca da autenticidade, da pureza do espírito e da união com o todo universal.
Um livro encantador e pleno de simbolismo, sempre redescoberto por novas gerações de leitores, .