Hermann Hesse’s short novel Rosshalde (1914) is told from an
omniscient point of view. The painter Johann Veraguth bought the property and
land Rosshalde and built a studio where he could avoid his wife, Adele. His
older son was sent off to boarding school and his young son Pierre, aged seven,
rarely crossed the studio’s threshold. Hesse was a painter and this book
possesses autobiographic elements: his marriage began to disintegrate, partly
due to his wife Maria’s mental issues. However, it’s quite possible his
obsession with writing might have been a factor. Certainly, his character Veraguth
only seemed content when painting. ‘… he
recaptured the industrious tension which tolerates no digressions and
concentrates all our energies on the work in hand.’ (p11) He was incapable of
perceiving his poverty of existence: he strove to perfect his works of art, yet
‘bungled his attempts at love and life’ (p73)
Gradually we learn that he
made difficult demands on his wife, nothing specific, but it harmed their
relationship deeply. ‘… though she had ceased to love her husband she still
regarded the loss of his affection as a sadly incomprehensible and undeserved
misfortune.’ (p13) He admits, ‘I kept
demanding the thing that Adele was unable to give…’ (p47)
Hesse illuminates scenes with
a painter’s eye: ‘The little lake lay almost black in the total silence, the
feeble light lay on the water like an infinitely thin membrane or a layer of
fine dust.’ (p3) He was also a student of nature: ‘… the declining sun shone
horizontally through the tree trunks and golden flames were kindled on the
glassy wings of the dragonflies.’ (p27) And, in the drizzle, ‘the wet smooth
trunks of the beech trees glistened black like cast iron.’ (p65)
A catalyst for change is the
arrival of his friend Otto, who lives in India. He brings with him many
captivating photographs of the exotic land.
[An aside: Strange
coincidences abound in my selection of reading, it seems. I read March the Ninth by R.C. Hutchinson which
concerned partisans in wartime Yugoslavia; next I read Alastair MacLean’s Partisans, about the same subject; yet
random choice, entirely unplanned. Then I read Legacy by James Steel, where one of the protagonists is called
Otto, and here in this book we have Otto!]
A friend has observed that
the phrase ‘eyes narrowed’ is overused and perhaps not quite accurate. Here,
Hesse avoids falling into that common trap: ‘Pierre froze. He closed his eyes
except for a small slit and glared through his long lashes.’ The son’s relationship
with the manservant Robert is at times amusing. Another writerly bugbear is
‘the movement of eyes, as if levitating entities in themselves – when it should
be described as a gaze. Even Hesse (or his translator) succumbs: ‘(she) let her
eyes roam idly over the flowers, the table, the room…’
Hesse deplored the strident
nationalism leading up to the First World War; in protest against German
militarism he exiled himself to Switzerland in 1919. While on a vacation at
home, the eldest son Albert says he hates his father. His mother retorts:
‘Hate! Don’t use such words, they distort everything.’ As true today, as it was
then.
It is quite possible that
Hesse had seen or read J.M. Barrie’s Peter
Pan (1904). He has Pierre say: ‘… when old people get older and older, they
die in the end. I’d rather stay the way I am, and sometimes I’d like to be able
to fly, and fly around the trees way up high, and in between the clouds. Then
I’d laugh at everybody!’ (p39)
Illness in the home affects
the family. Adele’s ‘balance had been shaken, she felt as though she were
sitting on a limb that was being sawed off.’ (103) This is a turning point for the painter. ‘It
was as though his life had become once more a limpid stream or river, driving
resolutely in the direction assigned to it, whereas hitherto it had stagnated
in the swampy lake of indecision.’
How he makes his decision,
and what it is, is annoyingly hinted at in the blurb; an unforgiveable spoiler.
Indeed, it reflects Hesse’s own actions of 1911. Whatever loss Veraguth
experienced, he had his art.
Hesse wrote his last book in
1943, The Glass Bead Game; he was
awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1946; he died in 1962, aged 85.
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