*Narcissus and Goldmund

Narcissus and Goldmund -Hermann Hesse
Grandiose and dry. Compared to Steppenwolf, Glass Bead Game, and Siddhartha, this book was overly conceptual and weak in character. A light philosophical read, in which the strict duality of human nature was thornily jammed into a merely scholastic oneness of nature. There were gems, of course. There was an overall, arching grace emanating from Hesse’s intellect. I thought very much of Heather and I, as Narcissus and Goldmund, respectively. But gladly we don’t fit into those scientific ingots.
“He thought that perhaps fear of death was the root of all art.”
“Ach, life made sense only if one achieved both, only if it was not split by this brittle alternative! To create, without sacrificing one’s senses for it. To live, without renouncing the nobility of creating. Was that impossible? Perhaps there were people for whom this was possible. Perhaps there were husbands and heads of families who did not lose their sensuality by being faithful. Perhaps there were people who, though settled, did not have hearts dried up by lack of freedom and lack of risk. Perhaps. He had never met one.”
and my favorite, a sentence that reminds me of Cormac,
“You are not to think about whether God hears your prayers or whether there is a God such as you imagine.”