Siddhartha [Paperback]

Hermann Hesse (Author)

Book Description

Publication Date: December 3, 2010

Quality paperback edition of Hermann Hesse's classic novel of pilgrimage and spiritual awakening, Siddhartha. *** Also available: Digital edition for kindle (ASIN B00378L6VY)

Editorial Reviews

From Library Journal

Siddhartha's life takes him on a journey toward enlightenment. Afire with youthful idealism, the Brahmin joins a group of ascetics, fasting and living without possessions. Meeting Gotama the Buddha, he comes to feel this is not the right path, though he also declines joining the Buddha's followers. He reenters the world, hoping to learn of his own nature, but instead slips gradually into hedonism and materialism. Surfeited and disgusted, he flees from his possessions to become a ferryman's apprentice, learning what lessons he can from the river itself. Herman Hesse's 1922 Bildungsroman parallels the life of Buddha and seems to argue that lessons of this sort cannot be taught but come from one's own struggle to find truth. Noted actor Derek Jacobi interprets this material wonderfully, and the package, despite abridging a Nobel prize winner's prose, can be highly recommended.AJohn Hiett, Iowa City P.L.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Review

"No living English-speaking actor outshines Derek Jacobi, nor any audiobook reader for that matter. He sings, rather than speaks, with extraordinary lyricism, expressiveness and depth...Jacobi approached the text with a direct, childlike fervor. He brings home the subtleties of Siddhartha's inner journey with amazing clarity and resonance, which he makes more exciting than the most thrilling thriller." --AudioFile, October/November 1998

"Filled with timeless truths and told so beautifully with images that burn deep into your being, Hesse's novel speaks powerfully to every generation of spiritual seekers. . . . A fresh translation of Siddhartha that offers greater authenticity than any other translation—while still preserving the unique beauty of the original prose."— Branches of Light --branchs of light --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.

See all Editorial Reviews

Product Details

• Paperback: 108 pages
• Publisher: Tribeca Books (December 3, 2010)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1936594366
• ISBN-13: 978-1936594368
• Product Dimensions: 0.3 x 8.4 x 5.4 inches
• Shipping Weight: 13.6 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 4.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (171 customer reviews)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #307,752 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

More About the Author

Hermann Hesse (1877-1962) was born in Germany and later became a citizen of Switzerland. As a Western man profoundly affected by the mysticism of Eastern thought, he wrote many novels, stories, and essays that bear a vital spiritual force that has captured the imagination and loyalty of many generations of readers. In 1946, he won the Nobel Prize for Literature for The Glass Bead Game.

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#38 in Books > Literature & Fiction > Classics

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Most Helpful Customer Reviews

47 of 49 people found the following review helpful

3.0 out of 5 stars Translation is filled with grammatical errors October 20, 2009

By Ben Gilworth

Format:Paperback|Amazon Verified Purchase

The layout and cover are beautifully done. Hesse's book is a masterpiece. The translation also has a kind of poetry that I suspect is close to the German, however there are a fair number grammatical errors or typos in this edition - it seems they used spell check so the typos aren't obvious, but I can't go more than a few paragraphs without having to read a sentence a few times to figure out which word was left out or spell-checked into the wrong word. 'Learned' becomes 'Leaned', 'that' becomes 'That', 'ice' becomes 'icy', 'breaths' becomes 'breathes', commas break sentences in ways that unintentionally change meaning, etc... These are just some examples from a few pages chosen at random. This problem is consistent throughout the book. There is even an instance where a question left by the translator, in German, is sitting IN THE TEXT in a sentence, which is just absurd.

28 of 28 people found the following review helpful

5.0 out of 5 stars Siddhartha Flows Like Water, Depending on the Translation December 19, 2011

By Michael Cunningham

Format:Paperback

I just finished reading Siddhartha, and I can safely say without a shadow of a doubt, that it is now my favourite book. It's simply amazing that this was published in 1922, it is a timeless breath of simplicity and creativity. Herman Hesse was known for writing semi autobiographical novels, and this one is no exception; the character Siddhartha is even recognised for his writing ability at one stage of the novel. Siddhartha is heavily influenced by Hesse's close relationship with the great Swisse psychologist Carl Jung, and it is a treat to experience the archetypal imagery that Hesse manages to bring to life with sheer mastery. The novel reads like an old mythic tale, told with simple descriptive prose, and playful dialogue: the characters even refer to themselves in the third person! While reading Siddhartha, I couldn't help but picture the novel's world as being hand drawn, like the old drawings of the Buddha and the Hindu and Buddhist mythologies of old. The book is divided into three parts, which symbolically follow Siddhartha's birth, death, and rebirth. The Siddhartha in the novel is not related to the Siddhartha Gautama (Buddha), but he exists in the same time as him, and the two cross paths in the book. Even though they are unrelated, and the story hasn't much to do with the Buddha, the novel implies that the Buddha exists everywhere and in everyone and is merely a representation of the enlightenment available to anyone, at any moment. Whether it be at the moment of physical death, sickness, wealth, sadness, or simply holding and looking at a rock, one is capable of `waking up' and seeing the inter connectedness of everything.

I won't elaborate any further on the book, I would hate to subtract any of your enjoyment out of reading it yourself, and if you haven't, I urge you to.... One important thing to consider before reading it however, (it is a fairly short read - roughly 80 pages) is the translation. The original was written in German, so the translation of the book can make or break it. Some translations are really poor, while others capture the essence of the novel beautifully and gracefully, like a net catches a butterfly before releasing it into the wind. Below is a extract of the book, spanning all (or at least most) of the English translations available to you, to help you choose the right version for you. I've ordered them in order of best to worst, though you might have a different opinion to me.

SIDDHARTHA ENGLISH TRANSLATION COMPARISON:

Dover Thrift, introduction, translation and glossary of Indian terms by Stanley Appelbaum (1998)

Instructed by the samana elder, Siddhartha practiced denial of self; he practiced concentration in accordance with new samana rules. A heron flew over the bamboo forest - and Siddhartha absorbed the heron into his soul; he flew over forest and mountain, he was the heron, he ate fish, he hungered with a heron's hunger, he spoke with a heron's croaking, he died a heron's death. A dead jackal lay on the sandy riverbank, and Siddhartha's soul slipped into the carcass; he was a dead jackal, he lay on the sand, he swelled up, stank, rotted, was torn apart by hyenas, was skinned by vultures, became a skeleton, turned to dust, blew away into the fields. And Siddhartha's soul returned; it had died, it had rotted, it had fallen into dust, it had tasted the dismal intoxication of the cycle of existences; filled with fresh thirst, like a hunter it was awaiting the gap through which it might escape the cycle, where causation would come to an end, where sorrowless eternity began. He mortified his senses, he mortified his power to remember, he stole out of his ego and into a thousand unfamiliar forms of creation; he was an animal, he was a carcass, he was stone, he was wood, he was water, and each time, upon awakening, he found himself again; the sun or the moon was shining; he was himself once again, he was moving through the cycle; he felt thirst, overcame his thirst, felt fresh thirst.

Modern Library, a translation by Susan Bernofsky, foreword by Tom Robbins, translator's preface (2006)

Instructed by the eldest of the Samanas, Siddhartha practiced the eradication of ego, practiced samadhi according to new Samana rules. A heron flew over the bamboo forest--and Siddhartha received the heron into his soul, flew over forests and mountains, was heron, ate fish, felt the pangs of heron hunger, spoke in heron squawks, died heron death. A dead jackal lay on the sandy bank, and Siddhartha's soul slipped into the corpse, was dead jackal, lay on the beach, grew bloated, stank, decayed, was torn apart by hyenas and flayed by vultures, became a skeleton, became dust, blew into the fields. And Siddhartha's soul returned, it had died, had decayed, become dust, it had tasted the bleak euphoria of the cyclical journey, and then, freshly thirsty, it waited crouching like a hunter for the gap in the cycle where escape was possible, where the end of causality began, an eternity free of sorrow. He killed off his senses, he killed off his memory, he slipped from his Self to enter a thousand new shapes, was animal, was cadaver, was stone, was wood, was water, and each time he awakened he found himself once more, the sun would be shining, or else the moon, and he was once more a Self oscillating in the cycle, he felt thirst, overcame the thirst, felt new thirst.

Shambhala Classics, a translation by Sherab Chödzin Kohn, introduction by Paul W. Morris, translator's preface (1998).

Taught by the eldest shramana, Siddhartha practiced self-abnegation, practiced meditative absorption according to the new instructions of the shramanas. A heron flew over the bamboo grove, and Siddhartha became one with the heron in his mind, flew over forest and mountain, became a heron, ate fish, hungered with a heron's hunger, spoke a heron's croaking languages, died a heron's death. There was a dead jackal lying on the sandy bank, and Siddhartha's mind slipped into the carcass, became a dead jackal, lay on the shore, swelled up, stank, rotted, was torn to pieces by hyenas, flayed by vultures, became a skeleton, became dust, blew about in the fields. And Siddhartha's mind returned, dead, rotten, reduced to dust, having tasted the dark drunkenness of the cycle of existence. With a new craving it lay in wait like a hunter for the gap where that cycle could be escaped, where the end of causation could begin, eternity without suffering. He slipped out of his ego into a thousand alien forms, became a beast, carrion, became stone, wood, water--yet each time when he awoke he found himself there again. By sunshine or by moonlight, he was once again ego, was pressed back into the cycle, felt craving, overcame the craving, felt craving anew.

Bantam Books, a translation by Hilda Rosner (1951). This translation is also available in a number of different editions from other publishers.

Instructed by the eldest of the Samanas, Siddhartha practiced self-denial and meditation according to the Samana rules. A heron flew over the bamboo wood and Siddhartha took the heron into his soul, flew over forest and mountains, became a heron, ate fishes, suffered heron hunger, used heron language, died a heron's death. A dead jackal lay on the sandy shore and Siddhartha's soul slipped into its corpse; he became a dead jackal, lay on the shore, swelled, stank, decayed, was dismembered by hyenas, was picked at by vultures, became a skeleton, became dust, mingled with the atmosphere. And Siddhartha's soul returned, died, decayed, turned into dust, experienced the troubled course of the life cycle. He waited with new thirst like a hunter at a chasm where the life cycle ends, where there is an end to causes, where painless eternity begins. He killed his senses, he killed his memory, he slipped out of his Self in a thousand different forms. He was animal, carcass, stone, wood, water, and each time he reawakened. The sun or moon shone, he was again Self, swung into the life cycle, felt thirst, conquered thirst, felt new thirst.

Penguin, a translation by Joachim Neugroschel, introduction by Ralph Freedman, translator's note (2002).

Taught by the eldest of the samanas, Siddhartha practiced unselfing, practiced meditation, according to the samana rules. A heron flew over the bamboo forest--and Siddhartha took the heron into his soul, flew over forests and mountains, was a heron, ate fish, hungered heron hunger, spoke heron croaking, died heron death. A dead jackal lay on the sandy bank, and Siddhartha's soul slipped into the cadaver, was a dead jackal, lay on the shore, swelled, stank, rotted, was shredded by hyenas, was skinned by vultures, became a skeleton, became dust, wafted into the fields. And Siddhartha's soul returned, was dead, was rotted, was dispersed, had tasted the dismal drunkenness of the cycle of life, waited in new thirst like a hunter, waited for the gap through which he could escape the cycle, where the end of causes came, where painless eternity began. He killed his senses, he killed his memory, he slipped from his ego into a thousand different formations. He was animal, was carcass, was rock, was wood, was water, and he always found himself again upon awakening. Sun was shining or moon, he was self again, swinging in the cycle, felt thirst, overcame thirst, felt new thirst.

Barnes & Noble Classics, a translation by Rika Lesser, introduction and notes by Robert A.F. Thurman (2007)

Instructed by the eldest of the shramanas, Siddhartha practiced moving away from the self, practiced meditation, following new rules, the shramanas' rules. A heron flew over the bamboo forest--and Siddhartha took the heron into his soul, flew over the forest and the mountains, was the heron, gobbled fish, hungered as a heron hungers, spoke heron croak, died the death of a heron. A dead jackal lay on the sandy shore, and Siddhartha's soul slid inside its corpse, became the dead jackal, lay on the strand, swelled up, stank, putrefied, was dismembered by the hyenas, skinned by vultures, became bones, dust, blew in open country. And Siddhartha's soul died, decayed, turned to dust, tasted the muddy rush of the cycle, waiting in new thirst like a hunter for the gap where the cycle would be escaped, where the end of causes, where eternity free of suffering would begin. He mortified his senses, he slew his memory, he slid out of his I into a thousand alien shapes, became beast, carrion, stone, wood, water, and found himself every time awakening again, in the light of the sun or the moon, again he was I, whirling around in the round, he felt thirst, conquered thirst, felt thirst anew. Read more ›

28 of 30 people found the following review helpful

3.0 out of 5 stars Beautiful and Special October 24, 1997

By A Customer

Format:Audio Cassette

I read this book when I was 19. I am now 51. Having just discovered Amazon Books, I was "surfing" and searching out titles that came to memory. I also read the lyrical version in German in those now distant days, and spent much time looking for "Suleika", or "Zuleika". It brought me great peace of mind at that time, as I had to interrupt my college days in order to enter the Army and go to Vietnam. The book reads like the flowing river, and is in some ways an eternal story of search for meaning in life and realization. Like Sidhartha our search for meaning often ends at the beginning. Ultimately, we return to the basic and simple truths that were there when we were born. Growing up is a kind of struggle. Sidhartha is a story of idealism and virtue that survives ignorance, futility and evil. If in the end, we retain that idealism, our lives can be heroic and our conscience pure. Sometimes, I remember and recall the words: "From Sidhartha to Sidhartha is my coming and my going." It is a book of haunting beauty and depth of meaning. W. H. L./Bellevue

34 of 38 people found the following review helpful

1.0 out of 5 stars Right book wrong translation May 7, 2009

By Patty

Format:Paperback

Siddhartha

I highly recommend this book but not this translation. The awkward sentence structures and many typographic errors get in the way of the reading. This is a story which should flow and unfold not stutter and stammer.

8 of 8 people found the following review helpful

1.0 out of 5 stars Don't judge this book by its cover! November 9, 2010

By Pat Carmoney

Format:Paperback|Amazon Verified Purchase

Several years ago when I first read Siddhartha I did so as part of a search for understanding the elements of Eastern spirituality. The book was mentioned in a surprising collection of other authors during that zeitgeist which is how I lost my original copy: borrowed and not returned! The recent replacement copy of Siddhartha sent to me through Amazon,however seemed to be an unedited and oddly formatted (margins inconsistent)piece of literature. There were grammar errors and odd translations that distracted from the text. A German word had been put in English form with parentheses and a question mark, for example. There was no publication date that could trace the authorship. Was this a bootleg?

10 of 11 people found the following review helpful

1.0 out of 5 stars "Free" Book... Awful Translation October 17, 2009

By J. Tate

Format:Kindle Edition|Amazon Verified Purchase

This is truly a great book, but the translation of the free version is awkward and painful. I suspect that the volunteer(s) knew German very well, but their English was like that of a foreign exchange student on his first day in America. I read it all the way through, but would gladly pay a few bucks for a professional translation if I were to do it again.

11 of 13 people found the following review helpful

1.0 out of 5 stars Kindle users: Be sure to download a preview March 23, 2010

By Brian McGroarty

Format:Kindle Edition|Amazon Verified Purchase

There are multiple versions of this listed. The version I'm reviewing against has built-in line breaks all throughout, which causes the book to be broken strangely when reading on the Kindle or iPhone. Unless you use the absolute smallest font (and landscape orientation on the iPhone), you will have full lines alternating with lines of 1-2 words.

If buying on Kindle - be sure to get a free preview first, to be sure you're not getting the badly paginated version!