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karinlib's review against another edition
4.0
I am not sure how many books I have read by Hermann Hesse, five or six maybe.
Rosshalde is the story of a famous artist whose marriage is holding on by a thread, that thread being his young son. That's all I am going to say about the plot of the story.
I liked the book well enough, I just wish Hesse had made the story a bit longer. No matter how many books I have read by Hesse, or how long they are, I feel like he never quite finishes his story. He leaves me a little disappointed.
Rosshalde is the story of a famous artist whose marriage is holding on by a thread, that thread being his young son. That's all I am going to say about the plot of the story.
I liked the book well enough, I just wish Hesse had made the story a bit longer. No matter how many books I have read by Hesse, or how long they are, I feel like he never quite finishes his story. He leaves me a little disappointed.
barborak42's review against another edition
3.0
Compared to other books in general, it would definitely be 4 stars, yet compared to other Hesse's works this book seemed to be less challenging.
It is beautifully written, the languge is rich with great descriptions, but the story is shallow. The suffering is portraited in beautiful words, but I did not feel the depth of the pain. Or maybe I just got used to Hesse's style of writing.
This is H.H. book that is beautifully written and good for summer reading, but it lacks something I found the most interesting in his other works.
It is beautifully written, the languge is rich with great descriptions, but the story is shallow. The suffering is portraited in beautiful words, but I did not feel the depth of the pain. Or maybe I just got used to Hesse's style of writing.
This is H.H. book that is beautifully written and good for summer reading, but it lacks something I found the most interesting in his other works.
vojvel's review against another edition
3.0
Nejdříve jsem knihu vyhodnotil jako velmi špatnou a nudnou.
Poté mne ale nalomila myšlenka směřující ke kontextu vzniku knihy - pro dané období byl imho podobný román dobrým standardem. A tak kniha o rodinně nalomeném umělci představuje jen jakýsi obraz doby, který není ničím výjimečným pro dobu dnešní.
Poté mne ale nalomila myšlenka směřující ke kontextu vzniku knihy - pro dané období byl imho podobný román dobrým standardem. A tak kniha o rodinně nalomeném umělci představuje jen jakýsi obraz doby, který není ničím výjimečným pro dobu dnešní.
sarahrosebooks's review against another edition
3.0
I read this book as part of a challenge to read all 1001 books on the 1001 Books To Read Before You Die list. I'd never heard of the book before accepting the challenge to read it, nor had I read anything else by Hesse prior to picking up this book.
From reading other reviews it seems that there are some who feel this particular translation (1970 - Ralph Manheim - Farrar, Straus & Giroux Inc) is lacking somewhat and does not convey into English how Hesse comes across in his native language. I wouldn't know, as I've never read any other translation of this book, nor have I any expectations when it comes to Hesse. I was essentially going in blind, which I think worked in my favour. (I also think the size of this book helps - there are only 154 pages, so not enough time to really let the characters wallow as much as they might have in a longer book.)
Rosshalde is the story of a failed marriage. It's easy to see that Hesse drew Veraguth's experiences from his own life - apparently Hesse had several failed marriages of his own. The story is somewhat autobiographical - not only was Hesse struggling in his own marriage at the time, but he also took a trip abroad visiting Sri Lanka and Indonesia, and the estate of Rosshalde is based on a painter's house where he and his wife lived, in Bern, Switzerland.
What I liked most about this was how Veraguth and his son are tied together. Veraguth is miserable and lonely. The beginning of the book has a scene where Veraguth wanders through the garden and spies on his wife and son as they talk about flowers and names. Veraguth feels somewhat lonely, uneasy, and has the clear thought that he will not let his wife take Pierre from him, as he feels she did with their first son. For Veraguth, the bright spot in his existence is Pierre. Pierre is innocence and light. He is like his father in temperament and appearance. He wanders between both parents as they fight for his affections, still unaware as his older brother is of how an unusual situation it is. Veraguth yearns for his own youth and sees something of himself in his son - he is nostalgic, wanting to go back to how it was before, with young loves and hopes and dreams and no failed marriage behind him. He doesn't see what he has before him, but only what he has lost. Later, Pierre too wanders through the garden in a similar way, finding little joy in all the things that once brought him pleasure, echoing his father somewhat from the earlier scene, even as far as spying on his mother and older brother and feeling jealousy as his father did.
The forewarned tragedy (mentioned in the blurb and utterly predictable) is also foreshadowed several times throughout the book. By the time I got to the end, I was not in the least surprised about what happened. The fact that the plot was so predictable took some of the enjoyment out of it.
In Veraguth, Hesse creates something of an extreme in terms of that nostalgic feeling we sometimes get for the past - Veraguth embodies the sort of person who is dissatisfied with their lot and can only see what they do not have, rather than what stares them in the face. Veraguth did not see that he had his little son to invest in, to love and cherish and watch grow into a man. He did not see that it would take only a few small steps to amend relations with his estranged wife and older son. His friend, too, did not see this - his friend was the devil on the shoulder of Veraguth, imploring him to join him on his travels abroad, to abandon his wife and children and leave them to their own lives.
I can understand why some readers would have no sympathy for this character, nor for any of the others. Veraguth is miserable and has given up on life. His wife is empty and cold, his older son is spiteful and full of hatred, and his younger son is spoilt and precocious. Even the servant, Robert, is not so likeable. However, I did feel sympathy for them, though I can't fully explain why.
There are some lovely descriptions in this book. When Veraguth is painting and observing, for example, and when he is reminiscing. The descriptions of childhood and innocence, the sad scenes towards the end, the confession to Otto towards the end of his visit... I can't comment on the translation but I did find some of the quotes to be quite wonderful.
All in all I did enjoy this book and would definitely recommend it. If you're new to Hesse this would be a good one to start out with.
From reading other reviews it seems that there are some who feel this particular translation (1970 - Ralph Manheim - Farrar, Straus & Giroux Inc) is lacking somewhat and does not convey into English how Hesse comes across in his native language. I wouldn't know, as I've never read any other translation of this book, nor have I any expectations when it comes to Hesse. I was essentially going in blind, which I think worked in my favour. (I also think the size of this book helps - there are only 154 pages, so not enough time to really let the characters wallow as much as they might have in a longer book.)
Rosshalde is the story of a failed marriage. It's easy to see that Hesse drew Veraguth's experiences from his own life - apparently Hesse had several failed marriages of his own. The story is somewhat autobiographical - not only was Hesse struggling in his own marriage at the time, but he also took a trip abroad visiting Sri Lanka and Indonesia, and the estate of Rosshalde is based on a painter's house where he and his wife lived, in Bern, Switzerland.
What I liked most about this was how Veraguth and his son are tied together. Veraguth is miserable and lonely. The beginning of the book has a scene where Veraguth wanders through the garden and spies on his wife and son as they talk about flowers and names. Veraguth feels somewhat lonely, uneasy, and has the clear thought that he will not let his wife take Pierre from him, as he feels she did with their first son. For Veraguth, the bright spot in his existence is Pierre. Pierre is innocence and light. He is like his father in temperament and appearance. He wanders between both parents as they fight for his affections, still unaware as his older brother is of how an unusual situation it is. Veraguth yearns for his own youth and sees something of himself in his son - he is nostalgic, wanting to go back to how it was before, with young loves and hopes and dreams and no failed marriage behind him. He doesn't see what he has before him, but only what he has lost. Later, Pierre too wanders through the garden in a similar way, finding little joy in all the things that once brought him pleasure, echoing his father somewhat from the earlier scene, even as far as spying on his mother and older brother and feeling jealousy as his father did.
The forewarned tragedy (mentioned in the blurb and utterly predictable) is also foreshadowed several times throughout the book. By the time I got to the end, I was not in the least surprised about what happened. The fact that the plot was so predictable took some of the enjoyment out of it.
In Veraguth, Hesse creates something of an extreme in terms of that nostalgic feeling we sometimes get for the past - Veraguth embodies the sort of person who is dissatisfied with their lot and can only see what they do not have, rather than what stares them in the face. Veraguth did not see that he had his little son to invest in, to love and cherish and watch grow into a man. He did not see that it would take only a few small steps to amend relations with his estranged wife and older son. His friend, too, did not see this - his friend was the devil on the shoulder of Veraguth, imploring him to join him on his travels abroad, to abandon his wife and children and leave them to their own lives.
I can understand why some readers would have no sympathy for this character, nor for any of the others. Veraguth is miserable and has given up on life. His wife is empty and cold, his older son is spiteful and full of hatred, and his younger son is spoilt and precocious. Even the servant, Robert, is not so likeable. However, I did feel sympathy for them, though I can't fully explain why.
There are some lovely descriptions in this book. When Veraguth is painting and observing, for example, and when he is reminiscing. The descriptions of childhood and innocence, the sad scenes towards the end, the confession to Otto towards the end of his visit... I can't comment on the translation but I did find some of the quotes to be quite wonderful.
All in all I did enjoy this book and would definitely recommend it. If you're new to Hesse this would be a good one to start out with.
althaz's review
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
retroarmadillo's review against another edition
emotional
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
1.0
todesschlaefer's review against another edition
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.25
rubbersoul413's review
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
lookhome's review against another edition
4.0
The Impression Of A Moment.
While Hesse's Rosshalde may not be as well known as Steppenwolf or the Glass Bead Game, it remains a beautifully told and elegiac take on art, art making and the modern family unit.
It is story about free will and choice.
It is about loss, love and the strength to move on.
It is about time, its passage and its subjective experience.
It is a mature novel about generational alienation, social estrangement and conscious art making.
It is an exploration of not only art for art's sake, but art making as a balm for the torn or ripped asunder soul.
Only John Berger writes about art making in such a poetic-realist fashion.
Read this and be transported into not only a specific time and place, but a specific way of thinking about experience, memory and the conscious act of choosing your life and actively looking forward to living and learning from its consequences.
Dead Alive by Arnold Bennett is also recommended though very different in tone, it explores art making and its relation to a well-lived life in a similar fashion.
Quotes from Rosshalde:
'He had discovered long ago that the prettiest and most interesting things are the very ones that cannot be known or explained' (11)
'The deep, potent hypnosis of resignation had been broken, and through the breach poured the unconscious instinctual forces of a life long curbed and cheated" (62)
'Today I'm satisfied if I can turn out a good picture, I don't see problems anymore, in any case not philosophical problems. If I had to tell you. why I'm a painter and why I spread paint on canvas, I should say: I paint because I have no tail to wag' (71)
'It was strange and sad, but no more strange and sad than all human destiny: this disciplined artist, who derived his power to work from the deepest truthfulness and from clear uncompromising concentrations, this same man in whose studio there was no place for whim or uncertainty, had been a dilettante in his life, a failure in his search for happiness, and he, who never sent a bungled drawing or painting out of the world, suffered deeply under the dark weight of innumerable bungled days and years, bungled attempts at love and life/ Of this he was not conscious. For years he had not felt the need to see his life clearly. He had suffered and resisted suffering in rebellion and resignation, but then he had taken to letting things ride and saving himself for his work. With grim tenacity, he had almost succeeded in giving his art the richness, depth, and warmth that his life had lost' (73)
'In those hours Veraguth knew nothing of weakness and fear, of suffering, guilt, and failure in life. Neither joyful or sad, wholly absorbed by his work, he breathed the cold air of creative loneliness, desiring nothing of the world he had forgotten... He gave no thought to what his picture expressed. That lay behind him; it had an idea, an inspiration; now he was concerned not with meanings, feelings, or thoughts, but with pure reality.' (74)
'What remained in him was his art, of which he had never felt as sure as he did now. There remained the consolation of the outsider, to whom it is not given to seize the cup of life and drain it; there remained the strange, cool, and yet irresistible passion to see, to observe, and to participate with secret pride in the work of creation. That was the residue and the value of his unsuccessful life, the imperturbable loneliness and cold delight of art, and to follow that star without detours would from now on be his destiny" (153)
While Hesse's Rosshalde may not be as well known as Steppenwolf or the Glass Bead Game, it remains a beautifully told and elegiac take on art, art making and the modern family unit.
It is story about free will and choice.
It is about loss, love and the strength to move on.
It is about time, its passage and its subjective experience.
It is a mature novel about generational alienation, social estrangement and conscious art making.
It is an exploration of not only art for art's sake, but art making as a balm for the torn or ripped asunder soul.
Only John Berger writes about art making in such a poetic-realist fashion.
Read this and be transported into not only a specific time and place, but a specific way of thinking about experience, memory and the conscious act of choosing your life and actively looking forward to living and learning from its consequences.
Dead Alive by Arnold Bennett is also recommended though very different in tone, it explores art making and its relation to a well-lived life in a similar fashion.
Quotes from Rosshalde:
'He had discovered long ago that the prettiest and most interesting things are the very ones that cannot be known or explained' (11)
'The deep, potent hypnosis of resignation had been broken, and through the breach poured the unconscious instinctual forces of a life long curbed and cheated" (62)
'Today I'm satisfied if I can turn out a good picture, I don't see problems anymore, in any case not philosophical problems. If I had to tell you. why I'm a painter and why I spread paint on canvas, I should say: I paint because I have no tail to wag' (71)
'It was strange and sad, but no more strange and sad than all human destiny: this disciplined artist, who derived his power to work from the deepest truthfulness and from clear uncompromising concentrations, this same man in whose studio there was no place for whim or uncertainty, had been a dilettante in his life, a failure in his search for happiness, and he, who never sent a bungled drawing or painting out of the world, suffered deeply under the dark weight of innumerable bungled days and years, bungled attempts at love and life/ Of this he was not conscious. For years he had not felt the need to see his life clearly. He had suffered and resisted suffering in rebellion and resignation, but then he had taken to letting things ride and saving himself for his work. With grim tenacity, he had almost succeeded in giving his art the richness, depth, and warmth that his life had lost' (73)
'In those hours Veraguth knew nothing of weakness and fear, of suffering, guilt, and failure in life. Neither joyful or sad, wholly absorbed by his work, he breathed the cold air of creative loneliness, desiring nothing of the world he had forgotten... He gave no thought to what his picture expressed. That lay behind him; it had an idea, an inspiration; now he was concerned not with meanings, feelings, or thoughts, but with pure reality.' (74)
'What remained in him was his art, of which he had never felt as sure as he did now. There remained the consolation of the outsider, to whom it is not given to seize the cup of life and drain it; there remained the strange, cool, and yet irresistible passion to see, to observe, and to participate with secret pride in the work of creation. That was the residue and the value of his unsuccessful life, the imperturbable loneliness and cold delight of art, and to follow that star without detours would from now on be his destiny" (153)
tindows's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5