Verwandte Artikel zu Siddhartha: An Indian Tale (Penguin Drop Caps Series)
Inhaltsangabe
From A to Z, the Penguin Drop Caps series collects 26 unique hardcovers—featuring cover art by Jessica Hische
It all begins with a letter. Fall in love with Penguin Drop Caps, a new series of twenty-six collectible and hardcover editions, each with a type cover showcasing a gorgeously illustrated letter of the alphabet. In a design collaboration between Jessica Hische and Penguin Art Director Paul Buckley, the series features unique cover art by Hische, a superstar in the world of type design and illustration, whose work has appeared everywhere from Tiffany & Co. to Wes Anderson's recent film Moonrise Kingdom to Penguin's own bestsellers Committed and Rules of Civility. With exclusive designs that have never before appeared on Hische's hugely popular Daily Drop Cap blog, the Penguin Drop Caps series launches with six perennial favorites to give as elegant gifts, or to showcase on your own shelves.
H is for Hesse. A young Brahmin named Siddhartha searches for ultimate reality after meeting with the Buddha. His quest takes him from a life of decadence to asceticism, from the illusory joys of sensual love with a beautiful courtesan, and of wealth and fame, to the painful struggles with his son and the ultimate wisdom of renunciation. Integrating Eastern and Western spiritual traditions with psychoanalysis and philosophy, written with a deep and moving empathy for humanity, Herman Hesse’s strangely simple Siddhartha is perhaps the most important and compelling moral allegory the troubled twentieth century ever produced.
Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.
Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor
Hermann Hesse (1877-1962) spent World War I in Switzerland. After the war and a psychological crisis, he removed himself to the small town of Montagnola, where he created his best-known works. He received many important honors, including the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1946.
Joachim Neugroschel (1938–2011) translated numerous books from French, German, Italian, Russian, and Yiddish. The winner of three PEN translation awards and the French-American Foundation translation prize, he translated Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice, E. T. A. Hoffman and Alexadre Dumas’s Nutcracker and Mouse King, and Leopold von Sacher-Masoch’s Venus in Furs for Penguin Classics. He also compiled several anthologies including Great Tales of Jewish Fantasy and the Occult, A Dybbuk and Other Tales of the Supernatural, and The Golem: A New Translation of the Classic Play and Selected Short Stories.
Jessica Hische is a letterer, illustrator, typographer, and web designer. She currently serves on the Type Directors Club board of directors, has been named a Forbes Magazine "30 under 30" in art and design as well as an ADC Young Gun and one of Print Magazine’s "New Visual Artists". She has designed for Wes Anderson, McSweeney's, Tiffany & Co, Penguin Books and many others. She resides primarily in San Francisco, occasionally in Brooklyn.
Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Siddhartha
By Hermann Hesse, Jessica Hische, Joachim NeugroschelPenguin Publishing Group
Copyright © 2013 Hermann Hesse
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-14-312433-7All rights reserved.
Chapter 1
The Son of the Brahmin
In the shade of the house, in the sunlight on the riverbank where the boats were moored, in the shade of the sal wood and the shade of the fig tree, Siddhartha grew up, the Brahmin’s handsome son, the young falcon, together with his friend Govinda, the son of a Brahmin. Sunlight darkened his fair shoulders on the riverbank as he bathed, performed the holy ablutions, the holy sacrifices. Shade poured into his dark eyes in the mango grove as he played with the other boys, listened to his mother’s songs, performed the holy sacrifices, heard the teachings of his learned father and the wise men’s counsels. Siddhartha had long since begun to join in the wise men’s counsels, to practice with Govinda the art of wrestling with words, to practice with Govinda the art of contemplation, the duty of meditation. He had mastered Om, the Word of Words, learned to speak it soundlessly into himself while drawing a breath, to speak it out soundlessly as his breath was released, his soul collected, brow shining with his mind’s clear thought. He had learned to feel Atman’s presence at the core of his being, inextinguishable, one with the universe.
Joy leaped into his father’s heart at the thought of his son, this studious boy with his thirst for knowledge; he envisioned him growing up to be a great wise man and priest, a prince among Brahmins.
Delight leaped into his mother’s breast when she beheld him, watched him as he walked and sat and stood, Siddhartha, the strong handsome boy walking on slender legs, greeting her with flawless grace.
Love stirred in the hearts of the young Brahmin girls when Siddhartha walked through the streets of their town with his radiant brow, his regal eye, his narrow hips.
But none of them loved him more dearly than Govinda, his friend, the Brahmin’s son. He loved Siddhartha’s eyes and his sweet voice, loved the way he walked and the flawless grace of his movements; he loved all that Siddhartha did and all he said and most of all he loved his mind, his noble, passionate thoughts, his ardent will, his noble calling. Govinda knew: This would be no ordinary Brahmin, no indolent pen pusher overseeing the sacrifices, no greedy hawker of incantations, no vain, shallow orator, no wicked, deceitful priest, and no foolish, good sheep among the herd of the multitude. Nor did he, Govinda, have any intention of becoming such a creature, one of the tens of thousands of ordinary Brahmins. His wish was to follow Siddhartha, the beloved, splendid one. And if Siddhartha should ever become a god, if he were ever to take his place among the Radiant Ones, Govinda wished to follow him, as his friend, his companion, his servant, his spear bearer, his shadow.
Thus was Siddhartha beloved by all. He brought them all joy, filled them with delight.
To himself, though, Siddhartha brought no joy, gave no delight. Strolling along the rosy pathways of the fig garden, seated in the blue-tinged shade of the Grove of Contemplation, washing his limbs in the daily expiatory baths, performing sacrifices in the deep-shadowed mango wood, with his gestures of flawless grace, he was beloved by all, a joy to all, yet was his own heart bereft of joy. Dreams assailed him, and troubled thoughts—eddying up from the waves of the river, sparkling down from the stars at night, melting out of the sun’s rays; dreams came to him, and a disquiet of the soul wafting in the smoke from the sacrifices, murmuring among the verses of the Rig-Veda, welling up in the teachings of the old Brahmins.
Siddhartha had begun to harbor discontent. He had begun to feel that his father’s love and the love of his mother, even the love of his friend Govinda, would not always and forever suffice to gladden him, content him, sate him, fulfill him. He had begun to suspect that his venerable father and his other teachers, all wise Brahmins, had already given him the richest and best part of their wisdom, had already poured their plenty into his waiting vessel, yet the vessel was not full: His mind was not content, his soul not at peace, his heart restless. The ablutions were good, but they were only water; they could not wash away sin, could not quench his mind’s thirst or dispel his heart’s fear. The sacrifices and the invocations of the gods were most excellent—but was this all? Did the sacrifices bring happiness? And what of the gods? Was it really Prajapati who had created the world? Was it not rather Atman, He, the Singular, the One and Only? Weren’t the gods mere shapes, creations like you and me, subject to time, transitory? And was it then good, was it proper, was it meaningful, a noble act, to sacrifice to the gods? To whom else should one sacrifice, to whom else show devotion, if not to Him, the Singular, Atman? And where was Atman to be found, where did He reside, where did His eternal heart lie beating? Where else but within oneself, in the innermost indestructible core each man carries inside him. But where, where was this Self, this innermost, utmost thing? It was not flesh and bone, it was not thought and not consciousness, at least according to the wise men’s teachings. Where was it then, where? To penetrate to this point, to reach the Self, oneself, Atman—could there be any other path worth seeking? Yet this was a path no one was showing him; it was a path no one knew, not his father, not the teachers and wise men, not the holy songs intoned at the sacrifices! They knew everything, these Brahmins and their holy books, everything, and they had applied themselves to everything, more than everything: to the creation of the world, the origins of speech, of food, of inhalation and exhalation; to the orders of the senses, the deeds of the gods—they knew infinitely many things—but was there value in knowing all these things without knowing the One, the Only thing, that which was important above all else, that was, indeed, the sole matter of importance?
To be sure, many verses in the holy books, above all the Upanishads of the Sama-Veda, spoke of this innermost, utmost thing: splendid verses. “Your soul is the entire world” was written there, and it was written as well that in sleep, the deepest sleep, man entered the innermost core of his being and dwelt in Atman. There was glorious wisdom in these verses; all the knowledge of the wisest men was collected here in magic words, pure as the honey collected by bees. It was not to be disregarded, this massive sum of knowledge that had been collected here by countless generations of wise Brahmins.
But where were the Brahmins, where the priests, where the wise men or penitents who had succeeded not merely in knowing this knowledge but in living it? Where was the master who had been able to transport his own being-at-home-in-Atman from sleep to the waking realm, to life, to all his comings and goings, his every word and deed?
Siddhartha knew a great many venerable Brahmins, above all his father, a pure, learned, utterly venerable man. Worthy of admiration was his father, still and regal his bearing, his life pure, his words full of wisdom; fine and noble thoughts resided in his brow. But even...
The Son of the Brahmin
In the shade of the house, in the sunlight on the riverbank where the boats were moored, in the shade of the sal wood and the shade of the fig tree, Siddhartha grew up, the Brahmin’s handsome son, the young falcon, together with his friend Govinda, the son of a Brahmin. Sunlight darkened his fair shoulders on the riverbank as he bathed, performed the holy ablutions, the holy sacrifices. Shade poured into his dark eyes in the mango grove as he played with the other boys, listened to his mother’s songs, performed the holy sacrifices, heard the teachings of his learned father and the wise men’s counsels. Siddhartha had long since begun to join in the wise men’s counsels, to practice with Govinda the art of wrestling with words, to practice with Govinda the art of contemplation, the duty of meditation. He had mastered Om, the Word of Words, learned to speak it soundlessly into himself while drawing a breath, to speak it out soundlessly as his breath was released, his soul collected, brow shining with his mind’s clear thought. He had learned to feel Atman’s presence at the core of his being, inextinguishable, one with the universe.
Joy leaped into his father’s heart at the thought of his son, this studious boy with his thirst for knowledge; he envisioned him growing up to be a great wise man and priest, a prince among Brahmins.
Delight leaped into his mother’s breast when she beheld him, watched him as he walked and sat and stood, Siddhartha, the strong handsome boy walking on slender legs, greeting her with flawless grace.
Love stirred in the hearts of the young Brahmin girls when Siddhartha walked through the streets of their town with his radiant brow, his regal eye, his narrow hips.
But none of them loved him more dearly than Govinda, his friend, the Brahmin’s son. He loved Siddhartha’s eyes and his sweet voice, loved the way he walked and the flawless grace of his movements; he loved all that Siddhartha did and all he said and most of all he loved his mind, his noble, passionate thoughts, his ardent will, his noble calling. Govinda knew: This would be no ordinary Brahmin, no indolent pen pusher overseeing the sacrifices, no greedy hawker of incantations, no vain, shallow orator, no wicked, deceitful priest, and no foolish, good sheep among the herd of the multitude. Nor did he, Govinda, have any intention of becoming such a creature, one of the tens of thousands of ordinary Brahmins. His wish was to follow Siddhartha, the beloved, splendid one. And if Siddhartha should ever become a god, if he were ever to take his place among the Radiant Ones, Govinda wished to follow him, as his friend, his companion, his servant, his spear bearer, his shadow.
Thus was Siddhartha beloved by all. He brought them all joy, filled them with delight.
To himself, though, Siddhartha brought no joy, gave no delight. Strolling along the rosy pathways of the fig garden, seated in the blue-tinged shade of the Grove of Contemplation, washing his limbs in the daily expiatory baths, performing sacrifices in the deep-shadowed mango wood, with his gestures of flawless grace, he was beloved by all, a joy to all, yet was his own heart bereft of joy. Dreams assailed him, and troubled thoughts—eddying up from the waves of the river, sparkling down from the stars at night, melting out of the sun’s rays; dreams came to him, and a disquiet of the soul wafting in the smoke from the sacrifices, murmuring among the verses of the Rig-Veda, welling up in the teachings of the old Brahmins.
Siddhartha had begun to harbor discontent. He had begun to feel that his father’s love and the love of his mother, even the love of his friend Govinda, would not always and forever suffice to gladden him, content him, sate him, fulfill him. He had begun to suspect that his venerable father and his other teachers, all wise Brahmins, had already given him the richest and best part of their wisdom, had already poured their plenty into his waiting vessel, yet the vessel was not full: His mind was not content, his soul not at peace, his heart restless. The ablutions were good, but they were only water; they could not wash away sin, could not quench his mind’s thirst or dispel his heart’s fear. The sacrifices and the invocations of the gods were most excellent—but was this all? Did the sacrifices bring happiness? And what of the gods? Was it really Prajapati who had created the world? Was it not rather Atman, He, the Singular, the One and Only? Weren’t the gods mere shapes, creations like you and me, subject to time, transitory? And was it then good, was it proper, was it meaningful, a noble act, to sacrifice to the gods? To whom else should one sacrifice, to whom else show devotion, if not to Him, the Singular, Atman? And where was Atman to be found, where did He reside, where did His eternal heart lie beating? Where else but within oneself, in the innermost indestructible core each man carries inside him. But where, where was this Self, this innermost, utmost thing? It was not flesh and bone, it was not thought and not consciousness, at least according to the wise men’s teachings. Where was it then, where? To penetrate to this point, to reach the Self, oneself, Atman—could there be any other path worth seeking? Yet this was a path no one was showing him; it was a path no one knew, not his father, not the teachers and wise men, not the holy songs intoned at the sacrifices! They knew everything, these Brahmins and their holy books, everything, and they had applied themselves to everything, more than everything: to the creation of the world, the origins of speech, of food, of inhalation and exhalation; to the orders of the senses, the deeds of the gods—they knew infinitely many things—but was there value in knowing all these things without knowing the One, the Only thing, that which was important above all else, that was, indeed, the sole matter of importance?
To be sure, many verses in the holy books, above all the Upanishads of the Sama-Veda, spoke of this innermost, utmost thing: splendid verses. “Your soul is the entire world” was written there, and it was written as well that in sleep, the deepest sleep, man entered the innermost core of his being and dwelt in Atman. There was glorious wisdom in these verses; all the knowledge of the wisest men was collected here in magic words, pure as the honey collected by bees. It was not to be disregarded, this massive sum of knowledge that had been collected here by countless generations of wise Brahmins.
But where were the Brahmins, where the priests, where the wise men or penitents who had succeeded not merely in knowing this knowledge but in living it? Where was the master who had been able to transport his own being-at-home-in-Atman from sleep to the waking realm, to life, to all his comings and goings, his every word and deed?
Siddhartha knew a great many venerable Brahmins, above all his father, a pure, learned, utterly venerable man. Worthy of admiration was his father, still and regal his bearing, his life pure, his words full of wisdom; fine and noble thoughts resided in his brow. But even...
„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.
Suchergebnisse für Siddhartha: An Indian Tale (Penguin Drop Caps Series)
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Siddhartha
Verlag:
Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 2013
ISBN 10: 0143124331
ISBN 13: 9780143124337
Gebraucht
Hardcover
Anbieter: World of Books (was SecondSale), Montgomery, IL, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Hardback. Zustand: Very Good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). From A to Z, the Penguin Drop Caps series collects 26 unique hardcovers--featuring cover art by Jessica Hische It all begins with a letter. Fall in love with Penguin Drop Caps, a new series of twenty-six collectible and hardcover editions, each with a type cover showcasing a gorgeously illustrated letter of the alphabet. In a design collaboration between Jessica Hische and Penguin Art Director Paul Buckley, the series features unique cover art by Hische, a superstar in the world of type design and illustration, whose work has appeared everywhere from Tiffany & Co. to Wes Anderson's recent film Moonrise Kingdom to Penguin's own bestsellers Committed and Rules of Civility. With exclusive designs that have never before appeared on Hische's hugely popular Daily Drop Cap blog, the Penguin Drop Caps series launches with six perennial favorites to give as elegant gifts, or to showcase on your own shelves. H is for Hesse. A young Brahmin named Siddhartha searches for ultimate reality after meeting with the Buddha. His quest takes him from a life of decadence to asceticism, from the illusory joys of sensual love with a beautiful courtesan, and of wealth and fame, to the painful struggles with his son and the ultimate wisdom of renunciation. Integrating Eastern and Western spiritual traditions with psychoanalysis and philosophy, written with a deep and moving empathy for humanity, Herman Hesse's strangely simple Siddhartha is perhaps the most important and compelling moral allegory the troubled twentieth century ever produced. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers 00109650256
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 5,42
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 2 verfügbar
Foto des Verkäufers
Siddhartha (Penguin Drop Caps)
Anbieter: Dream Books Co., Denver, CO, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Zustand: good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). Gently used with minimal wear on the corners and cover. A few pages may contain light highlighting or writing, but the text remains fully legible. Dust jacket may be missing, and supplemental materials like CDs or codes may not be included. May be ex-library with library markings. Ships promptly! Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers DBV.0143124331.G
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 5,72
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Foto des Verkäufers
Siddhartha (Penguin Drop Caps)
Anbieter: Dream Books Co., Denver, CO, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Zustand: very_good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). Pages are clean with no markings. May show minor signs of wear or cosmetic defects marks, cuts, bends, or scuffs on the cover, spine, pages, or dust jacket. May have remainder marks on edges. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers DBV.0143124331.VG
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,02
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Siddhartha
Verlag:
Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 2013
ISBN 10: 0143124331
ISBN 13: 9780143124337
Gebraucht
Hardcover
Anbieter: World of Books Inc, Montgomery, IL, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 4 von 5 Sternen
Hardback. Zustand: Very Good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). From A to Z, the Penguin Drop Caps series collects 26 unique hardcovers--featuring cover art by Jessica Hische It all begins with a letter. Fall in love with Penguin Drop Caps, a new series of twenty-six collectible and hardcover editions, each with a type cover showcasing a gorgeously illustrated letter of the alphabet. In a design collaboration between Jessica Hische and Penguin Art Director Paul Buckley, the series features unique cover art by Hische, a superstar in the world of type design and illustration, whose work has appeared everywhere from Tiffany & Co. to Wes Anderson's recent film Moonrise Kingdom to Penguin's own bestsellers Committed and Rules of Civility. With exclusive designs that have never before appeared on Hische's hugely popular Daily Drop Cap blog, the Penguin Drop Caps series launches with six perennial favorites to give as elegant gifts, or to showcase on your own shelves. H is for Hesse. A young Brahmin named Siddhartha searches for ultimate reality after meeting with the Buddha. His quest takes him from a life of decadence to asceticism, from the illusory joys of sensual love with a beautiful courtesan, and of wealth and fame, to the painful struggles with his son and the ultimate wisdom of renunciation. Integrating Eastern and Western spiritual traditions with psychoanalysis and philosophy, written with a deep and moving empathy for humanity, Herman Hesse's strangely simple Siddhartha is perhaps the most important and compelling moral allegory the troubled twentieth century ever produced. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers CIN0143124331VG
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,26
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 2 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Siddhartha (Penguin Drop Caps)
Verlag:
Penguin Books (edition Translation), 2013
ISBN 10: 0143124331
ISBN 13: 9780143124337
Gebraucht
Hardcover
Anbieter: BooksRun, Philadelphia, PA, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Hardcover. Zustand: Very Good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). Translation. It's a well-cared-for item that has seen limited use. The item may show minor signs of wear. All the text is legible, with all pages included. It may have slight markings and/or highlighting. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers 0143124331-11-1
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,35
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Siddhartha
Anbieter: ThriftBooks-Dallas, Dallas, TX, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Hardcover. Zustand: Good. No Jacket. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). Missing dust jacket; Pages can have notes/highlighting. Spine may show signs of wear. ~ ThriftBooks: Read More, Spend Less. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers G0143124331I3N01
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,41
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Foto des Verkäufers
Siddhartha (Penguin Drop Caps)
Anbieter: Goodwill of Colorado, COLORADO SPRINGS, CO, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Zustand: good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). All pages and cover are intact. Dust jacket included if applicable, though it may be missing on hardcover editions. Spine and cover may show minor signs of wear including scuff marks, curls or bends to corners as well as cosmetic blemishes including stickers. Pages may contain limited notes or highlighting. "From the library of" labels may be present. Shrink wrap, dust covers, or boxed set packaging may be missing. Bundled media e.g., CDs, DVDs, access codes may not be included. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers COLV.0143124331.G
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,85
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Siddhartha
Verlag:
Penguin Publishing Group, 2013
ISBN 10: 0143124331
ISBN 13: 9780143124337
Gebraucht
Hardcover
Anbieter: Better World Books, Mishawaka, IN, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Zustand: Good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). Pages intact with minimal writing/highlighting. The binding may be loose and creased. Dust jackets/supplements are not included. Stock photo provided. Product includes identifying sticker. Better World Books: Buy Books. Do Good. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers 11407678-75
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 10,11
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Siddhartha (Penguin Drop Caps)
Anbieter: Half Price Books Inc., Dallas, TX, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Hardcover. Zustand: Very Good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). Connecting readers with great books since 1972! Used books may not include companion materials, and may have some shelf wear or limited writing. We ship orders daily and Customer Service is our top priority! Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers S_482926265
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,35
EUR 3,35 Versand
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Siddhartha (Penguin Drop Caps)
Anbieter: HPB Inc., Dallas, TX, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Hardcover. Zustand: Very Good. Hische, Jessica (illustrator). Connecting readers with great books since 1972! Used books may not include companion materials, and may have some shelf wear or limited writing. We ship orders daily and Customer Service is our top priority! Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers S_486166368
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 9,18
EUR 3,35 Versand
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar