Fairly interesting to this point. Not what I expected, but is akin to the previous Hesse novels and stories that I've read in that there is a concenration on the thoughts and feelings of his central characters nearly as much as the dialogue and action.
A fine example of introspectove an contemplative views as two friends separate in their youth, find their own disparate paths, explore and grow emotionally, cognitively, and philosophically, then reunite toward the end of their days to share with each other the trials and despairs that each has experienced. ( )

I thought the book was very interesting at first. A couple of weird moments, but nothing I couldn't roll with and just keep reading through.

But, soon after Goldmund left Narcissus and went out on his own...I just couldn't help but roll my eyes.He seriously managed to persuade that many women to sleep with him?? Not only that, but he was able to pull off that totally bad/awkward/gross moment with 2 sisters. Yuck. It was just derailed for so long....sex sex sex.

When it wasn't sex, it was just aimless roaming and shallow pondering about his life.

Although the premise of the book was interesting, I just thought the execution was not done well. ( )

This is an extremely trite and obvious thing to say, but it must be said: Herman Hesse is a wonderful writer. His translator must also take some credit. I found 'Narcissus and Goldmund' utterly riveting. I haven't viscerally enjoyed the style and atmosphere of a novel so intensely since I read [b:Summer|52842705|Summer (Seasonal, #4)|Ali Smith|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1575105411l/52842705._SX50_SY75_.jpg|73242841]. The measured and philosophical, yet tenderly emotional, tone is quite distinctive from other writers. I would find myself carried along by the lyrical prose espousing love and the natural world, then be absolutely floored by a paragraph like this:

Perhaps, he thought, the root of all art, and perhaps of all intellectual activity, is the fear of death. We fear it, we shudder at the ephemeral nature of things, we grieve to see the constant cycle of fading flowers and falling leaves and are aware in our own hearts of the certainty that we too are ephemeral and will soon fade away. So when as artists we create images, and as thinkers we search for laws and formulate ideas, we do so in order to salvage something from the great Dance of Death, to create something that will outlast our lifetime. The woman after whom the master fashioned his beautiful Madonna may have already faded or died, and soon he too will be dead: others will live in his house, others will eat at his table. But his work will remain. In the quiet monastery church it will continue to shine for another hundred years and much longer; it will always remain beautiful, always smile with that same mouth which is as full of life as it is of sadness.

Reading something like that, you have to sit down. If you are already sitting down, you might need to lie down. I don't really know how to respond to it in words, other than, "Ooof". Hesse's themes are so universal and examined so beautifully that it's hard to imagine 'Narcissus and Goldmund' losing its classic status. Life, death, love, art, freedom, and conflict are all examined with extraordinary astuteness and subtlety within a mere 250 pages.

I suppose I should mention the plot and characters, as they aren't mere flimsy props for philosophical abstractions. In medieval Germany, Goldmund is sent to a monastery school by his father as a teenager and makes friends with Narcissus, an older boy with such scholarly talents that he acts as a student teacher. The pair have an intense and romantic friendship that changes them both. Narcissus leads Goldmund to realise that the religious life of the mind is not suited to him, so Goldmund departs for an itinerant life of wandering through the world seducing women. Meanwhile Narcissus remains in the monastery and takes holy orders. The majority of the narrative follows Goldmund's progress. One of the most powerful sequences was his experience of the Black Death. This encounter with a Jewish girl whose father has been murdered in a pogrom will linger in my memory:

"Listen," he said, "don't you see that death is all around us, that in every house and every town people are dying, that there is misery and death everywhere? Even the rage of those stupid people who burned your father to death is nothing but anguish and despair, simply the result of unbearable suffering. Look, soon death will come for us too, and our bodies will decay somewhere under the sky, and moles will play dice with our bones. Until then, let us live and be kind to each other. Oh Rebekka, it would be such a waste of your white neck and your little foot! Dear, beautiful girl, come with me - all I want is to see you and look after you!"

He went on and on pleading until it suddenly became clear even to him that it was useless to woo her with words or reasons. He fell silent and looked at her sorrowfully. Her proud, regal face was rigid with rejection.

"That's how you are," she said at last, in a voice of hatred and contempt, "that's how you Christians are! First you help a daughter bury her father, whom your people have murdered and whose little fingernail is worth more than you, and hardly has that been done when the girl is supposed to fall into your arms and go to bed with you! That's how you are! At first I thought you might be a good person. But how could you be good? Oh, you're all pigs!"

There is so much to 'Narcissus and Goldmund' that deserves (and has undoubtedly received) vastly more detailed analysis than I could ever offer. It is rich in meanings. Instead, I will comment on the foreword by Graham Cox. This is brief and sincere. He states, 'It is a book that you can never grow out of because you grow into it.' That I can well understand. A quote on the back cover calls it, 'The quintessential book of adolescence', yet I don't think I would have appreciated it nearly as much in my teens. Hesse considers the dilemmas of later years just as insightfully as those of adolescence. I was also intrigued that Cox wrote, 'I think we can all see ourselves in Goldmund.' I can't, not one bit. Instead, I saw a little of myself in the aloof, intellectual, ascetic Narcissus. The relationship between the two has the particular intensity of love between people who accept and value their immense differences of personality, habits, and priorities. Like Narcissus, I greatly admire friends who can throw themselves into adventure, intense emotions, and artistic creativity, while not wishing to emulate them. Hesse focuses on Goldmund's journey, but does not take sides between the lives chosen by his two protagonists. Goldmund often doubts himself and Narcissus is clearly not without regret. Although I find Goldmund's choices much harder to understand than those of Narcissus, the writing gives such full account of why both make them that I am entirely sympathetic. Actually, I think it's more than that. The whole book invites intense empathy for all of those it depicts, in part by emphasising what all living beings share: life, death, and uncertainty. ( )

Also, ich weiß nicht...
Die Sprache ist zauberhaft, die Lesung hervorragend.
Die Story...?!? Ich finde Goldmund egozentrisch und frauenverachtend... ( )

This may be my favorite Hesse novel, although its impact on me was not as strong as that of Steppenwolf. The conflict between the artist and the spiritual man spoke to me, the truths uttered are well-balanced between the two. Can also be read as expressing two sides of one personality that struggle to be integrated without fully succeeding. ( )