Hesse The Journey to the East

1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 978-1-80533-152-0
Verlag: Pushkin Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 112 Seiten

In the aftermath of the Great War, a band of artists embarks on a journey traversing space and time. Each is on a different quest, but all are united in a vow of secrecy. Years later, a writer tries to set down an account of the voyage, thereby breaking his vow - only to find words, memories, and his very sense of self beginning to slip from his grasp.A kaleidoscopic narrative reeling between despair and elation, Hermann Hesse's novel is a profound meditation on creativity and spiritual transcendence.

Hermann Hesse (1877-1962) was born in Württemberg, Germany. He resented his pious and repressive upbringing, and was determined to be 'a writer or nothing else'. His writing was greatly influenced by his travels to Asia and through his friendship with psychoanalyst Carl Jung. In 1946 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature for The Glass Bead Game.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Hesse, Hermann

Weitere Mitwirkende

Rosner, Hilda

Leseproben

1

As it has been my destiny to take part in a great experience, and having had the good fortune to belong to the League and allowed to share in that unique journey, the wonder of which blazed like a meteor and afterwards sank into oblivion – even falling into disrepute – I have now decided to attempt a short description of this incredible journey. No man since the days of Hugo and mad Roland has ventured upon such a journey, until our own remarkable times; the troubled, confused, yet so fruitful period following the Great War.

I have allowed myself no illusions as to the difficulties involved in such an attempt. They are very great, and are not only subjective, although these in themselves would be considerable enough. For not only do I no longer possess the tokens, mementos, documents and diaries relating to the journey, but in the difficult years of misfortune, sickness and deep affliction which have elapsed since then, many of my recollections have also vanished. As a result of the blows of Fate and continual discouragement, my memory as well as my confidence in these earlier vivid recollections have become impaired. But apart from these purely personal notes, I am handicapped because of my former vow to the League; for although this vow permits unrestricted communication of my personal experiences, it forbids any disclosures about the League itself. And even though the League seems to have had no visible existence for a long time and I have not seen any of its members again, no allurement or threat in the world would induce me to break my vow. On the contrary, if today or tomorrow I had to appear before a courtmartial and was given the option of dying or divulging the secret of the League, I would joyously seal my vow to the League with death.

It can be noted here that since the travel diary of Count Keyserling, several books have appeared in which the authors, partly unconsciously, but also partly deliberately, have given the impression that they are brothers of the League and had taken part in the Journey to the East. Incidentally, even the adventurous travel accounts of Ossendowski come under this justifiable suspicion. But they have nothing to do with the League and our Journey to the East any more than ministers of a small sanctimonious sect have to do with the Saviour, the Apostles and the Holy Ghost to whom they refer for special favour and membership. Even if Count Keyserling really sailed round the world with ease, and if Ossendowski actually traversed the countries he described, yet their journeys were not remarkable and they discovered no new territory, whereas at certain stages of our Journey to the East, although the commonplace aids of modern travel such as railways, steamers, telegraph, automobiles, aeroplanes, etc., were renounced, we penetrated into the heroic and magical.

It was shortly after the Great War, and the beliefs of the conquered nations were in an extraordinary state of unreality. There was a readiness to believe in things beyond reality even though only a few barriers were actually overcome and few advances made into the realm of a future psychiatry. Our journey at that time across the Moon Ocean to Famagusta under the leadership of Albert the Great, or say, the discovery of the Butterfly Island, twelve leagues beyond Zipangu, or the inspiring league ceremony at Rudiger’s grave – those were deeds and experiences which were allotted once only to people of our time and zone.

I see that I am already coming up against one of the greatest obstacles in my account. The heights to which our deeds rose, the spiritual plane of experience to which they belong might be made proportionately more comprehensible to the reader if it were permitted to disclose to him the essence of the League’s secret. But a great deal, perhaps everything, will remain incredible and incomprehensible to him. The paradox alone must always be accepted that the seemingly impossible must continually be attempted. I agree with Siddhartha, our wise friend from the East, who once said: ‘Words do not express thoughts very well; everything immediately becomes a little different, a little distorted, a little foolish. And yet it also pleases me and seems right that what is of value and wisdom to one man seems nonsense to another.’ Even centuries ago the members and historians of our League recognised and courageously faced up to this difficulty. One of the greatest of them gave expression to it in an immortal verse:

‘He who travels far will often see things

Far removed from what he believed was Truth.

When he talks about it in the fields at home,

He is often accused of lying,

For the obdurate people will not believe

What they do not see and distinctly feel.

Inexperience, I believe,

Will give little credence to my song.’

This ‘inexperience’ has given rise to the position where our journey, which once raised thousands to a state of ecstasy, has not only been forgotten by the public, but a real taboo has been placed upon its memory. History is rich in examples of a similar kind. The whole of world history often seems to me nothing more than a picture-book which portrays humanity’s most powerful and senseless desire – the desire to forget. Does not each generation, by means of suppression, concealment and ridicule, efface what the previous generation considered most important? Have we not just had the experience that a long, horrible, monstrous war has been forgotten, distorted and dismissed by every nation? And now that they have had a short respite, are not the same nations trying to recall by means of exciting war novels what they themselves caused and endured a few years ago? In the same way, the day of rediscovery will come for the deeds and sorrows of our League, which are now either forgotten or are a laughing-stock in the world, and my notes should make a small contribution towards it.

One of the characteristics of the Journey to the East was that although the League aspired to quite definite, very lofty aims during this journey (they belong to the secret category and therefore cannot be revealed), nevertheless each member could have his own private aims and indeed without them he would not have been included in the party. Each of us, although he appeared to share common ideals and aims, was borne up and comforted by his own fond childhood dream deep within his heart as a source of inner strength and comfort. My own goal for the journey, about which the President questioned me before my acceptance into the League, was a simple one, but many members of the League had set themselves goals which, although I respected, I could not fully understand. For example, one of them was a treasure-seeker and he thought of nothing else but of winning a great treasure which he called ‘Tao’. Still another had conceived the idea of capturing a certain snake to which he attributed magical powers and which he called Kundalini. My own journey and life-goal, which had coloured my dreams since my late boyhood, was to see the beautiful Princess Fatima and, if possible, to win her love.

When I had the good fortune to join the League – that is, immediately after the end of the Great War – our country was full of saviours, prophets and disciples; of presentiments about the end of the world, or hopes for the dawn of a Third Empire. Shattered by the war, in despair as a result of deprivation and hunger, greatly disillusioned by the seeming futility of all the sacrifices in blood and property, our people were exposed to many chimeras, but at the same time many real spiritual advances were made. There were Bacchanalian dance societies and Anabaptist groups, there was one thing after another that seemed to point to what was wonderful and beyond the veil. There was also at that time a widespread leaning towards Indian, ancient Persian and other Eastern mysteries and religions, and all this gave most people the impression that our ancient League was one of the many newly-blossomed cults, and that after a few years it also would be half-forgotten, despised and decried. The faithful amongst its disciples cannot dispute this.

How well I remember presenting myself, after the expiration of my probation year, before the High Throne. The aim of the Journey to the East was revealed to me and after I had dedicated myself, body and soul, to this project, I was asked in a friendly way what I personally hoped to gain from this journey into the legendary realm. Colouring slightly, I confessed frankly and unhesitatingly to the assembled officials that it was my heart’s desire to be allowed to see Princess Fatima. The Speaker, interpreting the allusion, gently placed his hand on my head and uttered the formula which confirmed my admission as a member of the League. ‘Anima pia,’ he said and bade me be constant in faith, courageous in danger, and to love my fellow-men. Well-schooled during my year’s probation, I took the oath, renounced the world and its superstitions and had the League ring placed on my finger to the words from one of the most beautiful chapters in our League’s history:

‘On earth and in the air, in water and in fire,

The spirits are...