"But out of all secrets of the river, he today only saw one, this one touched his soul.  He saw: this water ran and ran, incessantly it ran, and was nevertheless always there, was always at all times the same and yet new in every moment! Great be he who would grasp this, understand this!  He understood and grasped it not, only felt some idea of it stirring, a distant memory, divine voices" (73).

I wonder what the analogy of the ever-flowing river refers to.  Is it a metaphor for the constancy of time (in that it is always present and always changing)?  Or maybe it has to do with the existence of all life everywhere, new beings being born as others die away.  In either case, I understand why Siddhartha fails to understand the river at this moment--it's an object that most be studied for a long time to comprehend.

A river that I imagine looks a lot like the one Siddhartha encountered.

"She wanted to tell this to him, but the tongue no longer obeyed her will.  Without her speaking, she looked at him, and he saw the life fading from her eyes. When the final pain filled her eyes and made them grow dim, when the final shiver ran through her limbs, his fingers closed her eyelids" (82).

I thought that this was a beautifully written, haunting passage. It conveys the suffering Kamala must've been feeling perfectly, thus putting the reader in Siddhartha's shoes, making him or her feel the pain of losing a loved one.

"Deeply he felt, more deeply than ever before, in this hour, the indestructibility of every life, the eternity of every moment" (82).

Kamala's death seems to open Siddhartha's mind to the analogy of the ever-flowing river to the incessancy of life and time.

"'You've experienced suffering, Siddhartha, but I see: no sadness has entered your heart.'  'No my dear, how should I be sad?  I, who have been rich and happy, have become even richer and happier now.  My son has been given to me'" (83).

Now that Siddhartha understands the river, he isn't saddened by Kamala's passing; just as the river never stops flowing, for every death there is a birth.  Grasping this truth gives Siddhartha a "glass half full" view on life.

"But he loved him, and he preferred the suffering and worries of love over happiness and joy without the boy" (84).

I understand this to mean that having someone you truly love in your life (even if it causes stress and suffering) is more important than being happy, but not having a loved one around.

"You don't force him, don't beat him, don't give him orders, because you know that 'soft' is stronger than 'hard', Water stronger than rocks, love stronger than force" (85).

I agree with this statement for the most part, but sometimes I feel that force is necessary to accomplish a well-intentioned goal. Take the Nazis, for example: would treating them "soft" really have put an end to the suffering they were causing? I don't think so.

I'm a total pacifist by nature, but there are certain evils out there that cannot be dealt with without force.

"Now he too felt, late, once in his lifetime, this strongest and strangest of all passions, suffered from it, suffered miserably, and was nevertheless in bliss, was nevertheless renewed in one respect, enriched by one thing" (87).

This is a great description of love.

"Sadly, he sat down, felt something dying in his heart, experienced emptiness, saw no joy any more, no goal" (90).

Sounds like a bad breakup.

"...all of these urges, all of this childish stuff, all of these simple, foolish, but immensely strong, strongly living, strongly prevailing urges and desires were now no childish notions for Siddhartha any more, he saw people living for their sake, saw them achieving infinitely much for their sake, traveling, conducting wars, suffering infinitely much, bearing infinitely much, and he could love them for it, he saw life, that what is alive, the indestructible, the Brahman in  each of their passions, each of their acts" (92).

Siddhartha's ability to finally feel love has opened his eyes to the rest of the world.  No longer considering himself a "star" above all of the other childlike people, "the falling leaves," he now sees and understands the emotion that I think makes us most human: love.

I'm confused about how I feel about the ending of Siddhartha.  Hemingway is my favorite author and I believe that the conciseness of his writing, combined with his usually heart-wrenching endings make for some of the best literature available.  I love tragedies and the catharsis they evoke in the reader or audience.  That being said, I felt a strange sense of emotional relief from the ending of Siddhartha.  Like Deer, I like the flowing, never-ending way that life and death are portrayed in Siddhartha, but I still like the "definitive death-is-the-end-of-everything ending" typically associated with Hemingway.