Siddhartha I looooved. Which is also totally unfair, because I really did read it at the perfect moment. I was going back to yoga, eating a lot of fruit, utterly happy about my life, and this book seemed like complete illumination and I just couldn't stop crying.
Demian was fine, but I knew nothing about Hesse's obsession about Eastern thought when I read it and I was like wtf half the time. I think that if I read it again my thriving psychomagicness would do a tribal dance over the cadaver of my dead rationalism.
And I just finished Steppenwolf, which at first made me think "this book really gets me. Fuck burgeouis ethos." But I did not enjoy it much and I don't think any of its profound psychobabble really got through to me.
But still, Hesse's probably one of my favourite authors of all time. GO BEATNIK FEELZ.