Candice Thiebaut Thiebaut itibaren Miežiškiai, Litouwen
I think I might have dated Steppenwolf in the late '90's. . .reading the book was a much more interesting experience. I don't know how I missed this one during my aspiring hippy days, but I did. In this 1927 novel that could have been written in 1967, Harry Haller does a lot of self-absorbed thinking in circles, which is probably the result, in part, of clinical depression. In the end, he claims to have found his way to healing in a literally, very trippy manner. Won't lie: it's rather fascinating.