predictable, but beautifully written ( )

E' il secondo libro di Hesse che leggo (Siddartha l'ho letto almeno 20 anni fa...) e non mi ha fatto impazzire.
La storia di per sè avrebbe potuto essere bellissima perchè parla di musica, che è una cosa che amo tantissimo, ma è troppo frettolosa e scontata.
Le narrazioni sono fredde e non si riesce ad immaginarsi la dolcezza e la passione dei momenti di composizione e canto perchè sono descritti poco e velocemente.
Mi aspettavo qualcosa di molto più struggente e passionale e per questo sono rimasta delusa.
Bellissima però la riflessione del padre su giovani e anziani, l'ho messa nelle citazioni del mio profilo :) ( )

Speaking with a friend here in Ireland about my well-documented love of Hesse and about my recent writing involving composers he rooted through the bookshelves in his house till he could find me this book, insisting upon the necessity of reading it. It's very much a book I needed at this time in my life, but then Hesse always seems to be that for me. I love that he talks about individualism and "the artist's way" somewhat cynically here. At times I feared he veered too much towards accepting the "art = suffering," but I think ultimately he's critical of that. Kuhn thinks deeply about what it means to be a creator, but he also thinks about what it doesn't have to mean. People keep telling him this is what an artist feels, this is what I know you feel but he repeatedly ends up finding that no, he doesn't feel what they are telling him he feels, he doesn't want the things they're telling him all artist's want, he doesn't see his experiences the way that they keep insisting he must see his experiences. I think the novel straddles the line and that my own bias brings it to one side rather than the other. I think if I were younger I would have read it and said: "I don't trust Kuhn's narration, I think he's lying to himself, he has suffered greatly and put it into his work and we can see that and he is only denying it." But that's exactly what the people around him say.

There's more that meant something to me in this book, but I don't think I can say it here, or say it yet. ( )

This early minor novel by Hesse is almost entirely predictable from the start. That's not to say it's a bad novel though. It is written in a wonderfully restrained style that makes it a little joy to read. The most disappointing thing about this novella is that when the predictable ending comes about it does so with more of a whimper than a bang. I was hoping for something more explosive in the end but perhaps that would be out of character with the rest of the book that is so very reined in. The side characters (basically all those apart from the narrator) could have been developed a lot more - that would really have helped to elevate this book to the next level and it's a shame, for once, that this isn't longer.

As it is Gertrude is a very nice short read, a great example of style, but it's that and not the story or characters that will remain with you afterwards. ( )

A melancholy tale of flawed love and existential angst. The pace is gentle, the characters are wonderful, and the philosophical musings lead absolutely nowhere. It reads like the work of a master storyteller who'd gotten to the end of a book before realising he hadn't had much to say. ( )