Why am I passionate about this?
Philosophical novels challenge rather than appease. They subvert. They obscure. As a former acquisitions editor at major publishing houses, I am confounded by the scarcity of chances taken on books that don’t fit the status quo or, are "difficult." I am most interested in how books—even when they meander and cavort—lead to surprising and unsettling revelations. Or how they don’t lead to revelations at all but keep the reader guessing as to when some semblance of grace will be achieved. I don’t wish to sound pessimistic; if anything, I wish to be realistic. Philosophical novels are reflections of life, which is often confusing, contradictory, and, yes, difficult. With a touch of grace for good measure.
Matthew's book list on philosophical novels I can’t stop thinking about
Why did Matthew love this book?
Steppenwolf is part funhouse reverie and part rumination on class division and loneliness, and it’s steeped in Hesse’s fascination with the sublime.
It’s not necessarily a fun read—at times, it’s downright frustrating—but it has the cajones to be frustrating, and that’s fine by me. Hesse employs a version of Jungian analysis in this book, and I enjoy the multiple "selves" that the protagonist Harry Haller (a substitute for Herman Hesse himself?) inhabits.
3 authors picked Steppenwolf as one of their favorite books, and they share why you should read it.
Harry Haller is a sad and lonely figure, a reclusive intellectual for whom life holds no joy. He struggles to reconcile the wild primeval wolf and the rational man within himself without surrendering to the bourgeois values he despises. His life changes dramatically when he meets a woman who is his opposite, the carefree and elusive Hermine. The tale of the Steppenwolf culminates in the surreal Magic Theater—for mad men only.
Steppenwolf is Hesse's best-known and most autobiographical work. With its blend of Eastern mysticism and Western culture, it is one of literature's most poetic evocations of the soul's journey…