Steppenwolf might be the official anti-pretentious hipster manifesto, exclusively read by pretentious hipsters.
In all seriousness, this is a nice story about freeing yourself from your personal preconceptions about yourself. Our main character, Harry Haller is pretentious and has locked himself into a cycle of looking down on what he deems 'lesser art' and the people who enjoy it. This leads him to perceive himself as the 'steppenwolf', an isolated lonesome wolf figure which lives apart from society. Throughout the book he meets characters that will question his stance and his binary view of the world which leads to quite interesting discussions.
I thought the book was quite well written, despite somewhat of a slow start. It's easy to see yourself in some capacity in Harry Haller's character. When he's in a new setting and is deeply uncomfortable by the actions of people, or when he sneers at others to protect himself. It's ultimately sort of a coming of age story, except we're following a man going through suicidal ideation and depressive thoughts in his 40s. This means we get to read through the classic tropes such as Harry finding love, going out dancing, taking drugs (wait, what?) and emerging from his shell.
The supernatural elements of the novel which live in Harry's mind drive the mysterious elements forward and really provide a unique energy to the story. The entire sequence of the Fancy Dress Ball really struck me and by that point I was in a frenzy as well, reading as fast as Harry was drunkenly dancing with whoever crossed his path. These were by far my favorite scenes, especially those with Hermine as Hermann.
Harry thinks there is a wolf inside of him. He thinks that personality is binary. Either he's the wolf, a reminder of all things natural and ready to bite anything that crosses him, or he's the human would-be bourgeois who strives to live through high-art. He doesn't realise that there is an infinite amount of personalities and beings that live within him, and that his commitment to seeing the world through the lens of duality is deeply hurting him and setting him back. The trial he finds himself in by the end tests and challenges this dilemma he's dug himself into.
by bernabeth
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The book was very good in the first and last third, the middle third was just ungodly boring to me. Otherwise I completely agree with the assessment here.
I really enjoyed this book. Quite the page turner for me once things got strange.
Well, let me take my pretentious hipster side and buy this. Thanks for sharing.
I’ve never been as disappointed with a book’s final act as I was with this one. It pulls off the “everything is supernatural / crazy / drug fueled nonsense now” ending better than every other book that’s attempted it, but that’s not the sort of thing I ever want to read. It was on track to becoming one of my favorite books until everything went off the rails.
It’s been awhile since I read this one, and I really didn’t love it, but the bit that stuck with me was how disappointed the beings in the Magic Theater were with how Haller had dreamed up a beautiful, intriguing woman with whom he could do anything he wanted, anything at all, and the most interesting thing he could come up with was violence. Or something along those lines (like I said, it’s been years – and I had to resort to Wikipedia to remember where the main character was when that happened). But the idea that those who believe that freedom means freedom to be violent are unimaginative was fascinating.
I think that sentiment colored my views of art and politics. I read Steppenwolf when I was at something of a crossroads in figuring out my own identity. I had always valued individual freedom as an ideal, but I had very little real idea of what that actually meant. The idea that violence was not just undesirable from a societal standpoint but also pedestrian in intellectual appeal had a profound effect on me.
>Steppenwolf might be the official anti-pretentious hipster manifesto, exclusively read by pretentious hipsters.
My copy includes an introduction where Hesse complains a little about how Steppenwolf was misunderstood and became a staple piece for depressed young people instead of bringing solace to more mature readers. My favourite part is that at the end he seems to make his peace with it and only makes a subtle suggestion for the reader to see a glimpse of hope in the ending, because it’s not actually sad.
Anyway, I picked it up as a certified pretentious, intellectual wanna-be hipster and to be honest it did change my way of thinking about myself. I think it gave me a reality check and made me realise that i might have been looking down to certain people just like Harry did. There laid a hard truth: people who indulge in mindless activities and simple pleasures have life figured out more than I do and it’s actually pathetic to sit and moan how unique and misunderstood you are. So thanks for that, Hesse.
Apart from the Treatise (which put me off from reading it for a bit) I enjoyed the story a lot. It felt like one continuous fever dream where you go from simping to Goethe, to discussing the political situation in Germany. Not to forget the drugs and parties which are always a good reminder that people a hundred years ago had a similar idea of fun. Lol
Blew mah mind when I was young. Still my fave Hesse title, I think.
[Fun animated intro from the 1974 film version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwDGVP1tMTg)
No lie, this book helped quite a bit with my depression and getting out of my own head.
I read it a few years ago and mostly remember the feeling that this is a book is good but probably resonates more with readers who are much older and sadder. As if I hadn’t lived enough yet to fully get it. Will give it a re-read in 30 years if I can. I prefared Narziss und Goldmund
I’ve tried several of Hesse’s books, like *Narcissus and Goldmund*, *The Glass Bead Game,* but I couldn’t manage to finish any of them. The only one I truly devoured was *Steppenwolf*. Yes, on the surface, it might appeal to pseudo-depressed hipsters (though I find those kinds of critiques a bit pointless).
I came to this book “late” in life, well into my 30s, far removed from the typical teenage depression.
Yet, in some ways, it still resonated deeply with me. While I don’t think I fully grasped the ending—or the book’s overall meaning—the reflections on laughing in the face of life and approaching it almost like a game offered me real comfort at times. Even now, I often find myself recalling certain passages from the final part of the book, which I found particularly moving.