Free Soul of the Age by Hermann Hesse Page A

Fräulein von Reutern’s. 39 We had an interesting conversation about Russian and French literature, and the young people present seemed rather taken aback by this. Next Sunday, I want to go and see Frau Kieser 40 (formerly of Göppingen). I haven’t mustered sufficient courage to call on her, but she’s now sent word that I should come by. I saw Professor Häring the day before yesterday; we’re selling his work concerning δικαιοσ ύ νη Θεο 41 on a commission basis. He says he has already sent Papa a copy. He was as friendly as the last time. I usually spend Sunday evenings at Aunt Elisabeth’s. We play music together, and also some board games; I occasionally have a game of cards with my cousin, 42 but, of course, never for money or profit. Even though I loathe having to socialize, I find it difficult to spend an entire Sunday all on my own. I’m very grateful to Auntie for her hospitality, particularly now that I’m no longer so dependent on her coffee. The widow of the Deacon has started serving me coffee on Sundays. I’d be very happy to get to know the Kiesers better, and feel somewhat more at home with them. They’re nice, fine people. Frau Kieser has three theologians in the family: two sons and a nephew.
    I have finished Virgil, and feel I now have the courage to tackle Homer right away, both poems. It will take me quite a while, but what harm? I keep putting off Sophocles in a rather cowardly fashion. I’d like to ask Papa whether he knows of a really good metrical translation of Horace, and also whether he has read Virgil’s “pastoral poems” and would recommend them. In any case, I’m going ahead with Ovid. The material is piling up, but I can eliminate some things, since I’m already sufficiently well acquainted with a few Greeks (Xenophon, Isocrates, etc.). I’m not in a great rush and I’d gladly reckon on spending two, three months on Homer, for instance, if this mood holds, since I read slowly, reread some passages, and engage in reflection. I’d definitely like to develop a comprehensive plan for reading the Ancients, as soon as possible. I’d never have foreseen ever embracing the Ancients again, with such enthusiasm. I have become the very thing I used to mock, a gold digger in avid pursuit of the dazzling veins of gold to be found in the books of the ancient world. If I hadn’t set myself the task of reaching Goethe, I probably couldn’t be enticed away so soon from these Trojan plains, stony Ithaca, the Attic bustle, the microcosm of the Forum Romanum. Before starting Homer, I have to revisit the manifold labyrinths of Greek mythology, and also straighten out my ideas again about such things as the nature of the nymphs and the genealogy of the Titans, so that I can then enjoy the meaningful, captivating intrigues of Homer’s gods, which appealed to me even in Virgil’s rather discreet version. This colorful world, from Olympus all the way down, seems rather strange and confusing to me, and yet, for anybody who wants to understand the cheerful, clever Greek way, those endless gradations of fauns, nymphs, dryads, and demigods are more important than all the old books. I’m thinking of perusing some abridged guide to the gods while familiarizing myself with the Iliad. While I occasionally read some Latin, rarely any Greek, I realize I couldn’t possibly read the Ancients, particularly the Greeks, in the original. It would take endless time and effort, and I would have to learn more Greek than I already know. Of course, I regret not being able to go to the source, but, fortunately, I do have access to some excellent translations.
    Fond kisses from your grateful
    TO ERNST KAPFF
    Tübingen, April 1896
    Many thanks for your interesting letter! I’m almost tempted to don Romantic armor so as to ward off your sharp attacks against melancholic, sentimental poetry;