I finished reading it early this morning.

I started back in on it after giving up on sleeping (at around 500).

I picked up the narrative at the point when S is tempted by a beautiful courtesan who offers to teach him the ways of love (and sex) if he cleans up a bit and gets a job in town, and brings her gifts.

Review my last few posts for full ironic effect.

Yeah. Anyway, personal drama aside, the novel is really an amazing thing. It covers a lot of philosophical ground is a thin volume (and also covers the entire adult life of a long-lived and well travelled fellow). It definitely goes on the list of books to reread every so often.

And it contributes to the wanderlust, and it offers explanations and encouragement for the escapism. And it chides the nihilism, as childish.
It gives depth to local memes about monastic things. It encourages conclusions I had already reached, namely "Wisdom is not communicable."

But I do not know the word, the Ohm, and I cannot hear my inner voice, guiding my actions.

I am not Siddhartha, and so this book teases, but holds no answers for me. But read it anyway, as it may show you more than I.