Reading 'Steppenwolf' was like wandering through a labyrinth of the soul—Hesse doesn’t just tell a story; he throws you into Harry Haller’s existential crisis. The ending? After the wild, surreal 'Magic Theater' sequence where Harry confronts his
Fractured selves (even murdering one in a symbolic act), he emerges with a flicker of hope. The novel leaves him laughing at his own absurdity, realizing life’s contradictions can’t be resolved, only embraced. The last lines hint that he might return to the 'game of life' with newfound
lightness. It’s not a tidy resolution, but it’s profoundly human—like accepting that the dance between despair and joy never ends.
What stuck with me was how the 'Immortals' (Goethe and Mozart) appear as guides, mocking Harry’s melodrama. Their presence frames his suffering as something almost childish, yet necessary. The book ends ambiguously, but that’s the point—Hesse isn’t offering answers, just a mirror. I closed it feeling both unsettled and weirdly liberated, like I’d glimpsed something true about my own inner chaos.