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I just finished reading Siddharta and I´am left with a feeling of - content.<br> Herman Hesse´s language is so beautiful once one gives in to it, and gives the story a quality of steady and profound calm, the kind Siddharta himself seeks, and I felt that there was someone smiling at me behind it, behind the language, perhaps the way Hesse describes that the Buddha smiles. (Amused? Slightly mocking? Benevolent? Just friendly?) A lovely and precise and sometimes, for lack of a better word, dainty (?) language. So apropriate for what it is about.<br>The description of this journey has it´s most painfull moments near the end, when Siddharta tries to win the love of the son he didn´t know he had, and who doesn´t accept him as his father. <br>This is the only element of the book which I felt was not completely solved. Or, I didn´t really believe the solution. What do you think?<br>