inverarity's
review of Steppenwolf reminded me of the pleasure that more than one of Hermann Hesse's books had given me. Now my whole shelf of German literature was lost in the Move from Hell, and space here is at a premium, so I decided to get a few e-copies of my favourites - The Journey to the East, Narziss and Goldmund, The Glass Bead Game and
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Incidentally, I once picked up a ranty-type book that claimed to be feminist in outlook. The acknowledgments page referred, among others, to the author's father and Robert Graves as men who didn't suck--I'm paraphrasing that last. Praising a man who treated the women in his life with nothing but contempt as feminist . . . well, it certainly told me the worth of her opinion, I suppose.
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