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It didn't seem right that there wasn't a review for Journey to the East. Even though I had never contributed online to anything and afeared even entering a chat room. Journey is a seminal volume of the counterculture movement, to be blurbish and show my age at the same time. Somewhere my dogeared paperback lies with its acid-etched illuminations and revelations penned inside. It seemed scanty at first read but a second or third time through it expanded like a fold-out children's book of the mind. Tripping through a long-gone Mitteleurop this could be the guide to the spiritual-romantic quest of youth. But for a proper appreciation one should probably read all of Nabokov, who poohpoohed (the Russian bear) Hesse and all others between the wars. And then the art may become clear again after all these years. We may be returning to the times of war and need that drink of Hesse again.