poignant to the utmost and a paean to the qualities of an artist-as-demiurge, hesse's work wonderfully illustrates perennial truths that show themselves in transitory images, no matter how contradictory that might seem. it is a touching work that borders on the religious, the metaphysical, and the pagan: it is an ode to the life within, the grasping for a unifying permanence that has been denied us as mortal creatures of flesh and blood. how else can you live, if bereft of such a pursuit? though perhaps the real question is: how can you die, if such a passion has been denied you?