Journey to the East by By Herman Hesse (Nobel Laureate)

I do not know how famous Herman Hesse is. I ignore how many are informed that he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1946, either. What I “do” know is that he is one of the authors that have struck me the most, in the course of my life-long book-reading. His style is unmistakable, essential, direct and clear, although often mysterious. The plots of his novels are strikingly original, they create an atmosphere that makes you feel you are on another plane of existence.
Herman Hesse (1877-1962) was a German-Swiss poet, novelist and painter.
He came from diversified backgrounds and spent most of his school years in boarding schools. As he states in his Autobiography, he was not a very manageable boy, and it was only with difficulty that “(I) fitted into the framework of a pietistic education that aimed at subduing and breaking the individual personality.”
He opposed Hitler’s regime and ended up getting Swiss citizenship. He traveled a lot, in particular to Italy, and admitted to have been greatly influenced by philosophers such as Plato, Spinoza, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, but mainly by the Indian and Chinese philosophy. His works include “Steppenwolf”, “The Glass Bead Game”, “Demian.” “Siddhartha,” his best known work, is a novel that narrates the spiritual path of self-discovery followed by a man during the time of the Buddha. But here I am not going to write about any of these, although I like them all. The one that has never left my mind and my heart since I first read it — and made me become a fan of the Swiss author - is a short story called “Journey to the East”, published in 1932. The plot is simple. The narrator, H., becomes part of a group of people (“The League”) who — each with their personal goal — are traveling to the East (a symbol of awakening) in order to find “Truth.” H.’s goal is to find mythical oriental Princess Fatima. Part of the group are real people (such as Plato and Mozart) as well as imaginary ones (such as Don Quixote). The travelers seem to be moving through space and time in a mysterious mixture of adventures. They find themselves in real places and real times, but the happenings take also place in imaginary locations and dreamed-about times. The interesting thing is that all proceeds well until the disappearance of the servant Leo, and this — in spite of Leo’s apparently minor role — provokes havoc among the travelers, who end up quarreling and finally splitting. H. finds himself alone and unhappy, desperately trying to remember his experience with “The League”, which he in vain attempts to write about. His memories are foggy, he is unable to express his thoughts and feelings clearly. He suddenly realizes that he needs to find the servant Leo who, in the final denouement — after H. asks to be pardoned for his defection — results to be the highest authority in “The League” — a sort of “organization” that has always existed, still exists, and will exist forever, as long as there are human beings who trust imagination and who are eternally in search of themselves and of truth.
In the Italian edition, the original German title has been translated as “Pilgrimage to the Orient”, and I like it better. As the word “pilgrimage” means “a long journey or search, especially one of exalted purpose or moral significance”, what the “League’s” adepts are trying to accomplish is just that. They slowly tread toward the place where the sun rises, a place where dreams can come true, where all individuals can discover and express their true selves, also thanks to the interaction with great souls who have inspired mankind with their genius since time began. It is the “ideal” that counts, the aspiration that encourages a human being to go ahead, to search, to create.