“Ah Harry, we have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home. And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is our homesickness.” (Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse)
Harry, at a loss, suffered from chronic melancholia. He cried out his longing for home.
Hermann Hesse let the readers decide for themselves whether Harry did reach home in the end.
What/ where is home?
Is there home for everyone of us?
If there is none, why are we suffering from homesickness?
How about you?
Are you coming home?