Free Steppenwolf by David Horrocks Hermann Hesse David Horrocks Hermann Hesse Page B

also giving their approval to that neutral, lukewarm middle way that constitutes life for the bourgeois. Only humour – the splendid invention of those highly talented but unfortunate individuals who are frustrated in the pursuit of the highest ideals, figures bordering on the tragic – only humour (possibly the most original and brilliant of humankind’s achievements) can accomplish the otherwise impossible feat of uniting all spheres of human life by bathing them in the iridescent light of its prisms. To live in the world as though it were not the world, to respect the law but to remain above it, to have possessions ‘as if not possessing’, to renounce things as though it were no renunciation: – all the things asked of us in such well-loved and frequently expressed words of wisdom can only be put into practice through humour.
    And if Steppenwolf, who shows signs of being capable of and blessed with the gift of humour, should in the torrid chaos of his private hell one day manage to concoct and distil this magic potion then he would be saved. In many respects, he still lacks what it takes for this to happen. However, the possibility, the hope is there. Anyone who likes him and has his welfare at heart will want him to find salvation in this way. In doing so he would of course remain forever confined to the bourgeoissphere, but his suffering would be bearable, indeed would become fruitful. His love–hate relationship with the world of the bourgeois would cease to be sentimental, and what he regards as the disgrace of being tied to that world would no longer constantly torment him.
    To succeed in this, or in the end perhaps even be capable of venturing the great leap into outer space, such a Steppenwolf would need for once to be confronted with himself, would have to look into the chaos of his own psyche and become totally self-aware. Then his questionable existence would be revealed to him as something utterly inalterable. It would be impossible for him in future again and again to escape the hell of his basic instincts by indulging in the consolations of sentimental philosophizing, or in turn to seek refuge from these in the blind frenzy of his wolfish appetites. The human being and the wolf would be compelled to recognize each other without the distorting masks of emotion, to look each other nakedly in the eye. They would then either explode and go their separate ways for ever, Steppenwolf thus ceasing to exist, or, in the rising light of humour, they would enter into a marriage of convenience.
    One day, perhaps, Harry will be given this latter opportunity. One day, perhaps, he will learn to know himself, whether by coming into possession of one of our little mirrors, or by encountering the Immortals, or perhaps by finding in one of our magic theatres what he needs to liberate himself from his badly troubled state of mind. A thousand opportunities of this sort are waiting for him. Because of the plight he is in they are irresistibly drawn to him. The atmosphere that all such outsiders on the fringes of the bourgeoisie live and breathe is full of magic opportunities of this kind. It takes very little for lightning to strike.
    And even if he never gets to read this sketch of his inner biography Steppenwolf is well aware of all these things. He senses what his place is in the structure of the universe; deep down he is no stranger to the Immortals; he is dimly aware of – and fears – the possibility of a confrontation with his own self. And though he knows the mirror he so desperately needs to look into exists, the thought of looking into it fills him with mortal dread.

    There is still one last fiction, one fundamental delusion that needs to be laid to rest before we bring our study to a close. All ‘explanations’, all psychological analysis, all attempts at understanding are reliant upontheories, myths, falsehoods for support. And where possible no respectable author ought to round off his portrayal without