Soul of the Age by Hermann Hesse Read Free Book Online Page A

friends, the way I loved—idolizing the flowers “she” had once held in her hand—I find this whole experience so strange and odd and yet as natural as a colorful dream of love. There were some mementos of that time, flowers, poems, etc., but I threw them into the fire—wherefore this abyss, this delusion of the heart, wherefore indeed this silly, miserable heart? And even these lines have a rather silly, “Romantic” flavor to them, which isn’t what I had in mind. So I prefer to hold my peace!
    TO JOHANNES HESSE
    [ Cannstatt, March 14, 1893 ]
    Thank you for the last letter. I’m a bit worried about Easter. I have a sense that once again things aren’t going to work out.
    You always seem to think I’m “burdened” by “the woes of mankind.” That’s just not so. If I’m tiresome and disgruntled, it’s partly because the professions that seem open to me aren’t in the least bit appealing to me. These days I think about Boll a lot. I have only been there once, but felt whole and content during my stay. Of course, everything came to a rather silly end, but my time there was so wonderful, apart from those final eight to ten days. Decent company, freedom, music, singing, and conversation—all that was beautiful. I used take pleasure in nature then. But now it has become merely a shabby refuge on occasions when the boredom is simply too great; the magic is gone. I probably did poorly on the exam, but I don’t care about that, as long as I get my intermediate certificate in the summer.
    All would be fine and good if the world were not so beautiful—if only it were open to me. But, as things are, I’m entirely dependent on my own energy, which is being exhausted. Yes, if energy and money weren’t so scarce, then—! Sometimes I win a drink from some inept companion over, usually, a game of skittles or billiards—but I don’t want to complain, since I have something to eat and a place to sleep, and should be absolutely happy, at least according to you and some other people. You say so often that thousands of people are a lot worse off. That’s certainly true, but there’s no connection between those other people and me, and I couldn’t care less about them.
    I shall probably be coming to Calw soon, and shall probably find other people boring and annoying, and they will feel much the same way about my company.
    NB: I would be very pleased if Karl happens to have a small pipe from his student days, doesn’t need it, and passes it on to me.
    Wilhelm Dreiss did brilliantly in his exams.
    Â 
    PS: I may send the important Easter things by mail; I may walk part of the way if the weather is good.
    TO JOHANNES AND MARIE HESSE
    [ Before March 24, 1893 ]
    I’m very anxious about Easter. If I could stay here or elsewhere, but as for going home!? I can tolerate just about everything but love. This cannot go on for much longer; I’m completely bedraggled, and my misery doesn’t belong in a house such as yours where love and friendship are at home. It’s easier for me to tell people like Geiger what I think! I consider that man a blockhead of the first order …
    I have to come on Saturday! Don’t be startled and—please!—leave me alone at Easter! I cannot tolerate love, and Christian love least of all. If Christ only knew what he has wrought! He’d be turning over in the grave.
    I have gone to the dogs in both body and soul; my heart has blackened, as has my life …
    You’re the people who ought to be pitied; I have been such a burden. A pity about that good money!!
    The thought of Easter seems more and more terrible, and fills me with revulsion (only if I come?). I’m about to fall silent, without actually shooting myself. That’s fine, the best course for us all.
    I pity you! Such devout, honorable, upright people; their filius, however, happens to be a scoundrel