Siddhartha: Part 2, Chapter 11 Summary & Analysis

The wound brought on by the loss of his son hurts Siddhartha for a good while. He sees the families that cross the river in a different way now. He understands them and is envious. He now feels a sense of kinship with all the various travelers from the childlike world that pass by. Their desires no longer seemed silly to him, in fact they are now vital, even venerable. He begins to feel that the child people are equal to the thinkers, with only one thing, consciousness, separating them. And sometimes Siddhartha even doubts the importance of this consciousness and sees the child people as superior, with their blind devotion to their loved ones.

Siddhartha has gradually learned what real wisdom is and he is even more drawn to Vasudeva, as the embodiment of the oneness and the smile that real wisdom is all about. But the wound of his son still burns in him, and one day he longs to go to town and see his son. He takes the boat out, but all of a sudden he hears the river laughing at him. He peers into the water and sees his reflection and in it, the reflection of his own father. He remembers how they parted and realizes that his father had felt the same suffering, and the whole situation was a cycle. The river laughs. Siddhartha’s wound is still not healing but hope glimmers in the distance.

Siddhartha goes back to the hut, wanting to open his heart to Vasudeva, the great listener. Vasudeva is old and slow now, but still wears his serene smile. Today, they talk of things they’ve never talked of before, the most embarrassing things, his envy, the wound of his son. Siddhartha feels the exquisite comfort of Vasudeva’s listening, as if he is bathing the wound. Siddhartha feels that it is no longer Vasudeva, that the man has transformed into the river itself, and eternity itself.

Siddhartha stops thinking about his wound and the presence of Vasudeva fills him up. Vasudeva’s transformation seems right and just. He realizes that he views Vasudeva as a god, but that it cannot last. He must say goodbye to the ferryman. When Siddhartha has finished his story, Vasudeva sits silently, radiating love for his friend. He suggests they listen to the river together.

Visions appear to Siddhartha as he watches, the faces of his lonely son and lonely father, and himself. The voice of the river is lamenting and determined. Vasudeva urges Siddhartha to keep listening and listen better. The images of his friends and family now merge and flow with the river’s voice. The river runs towards an endless set of goals, attaining each one and pushing towards the next as its form changes. Now its voice is filled with thousands of voices.

Siddhartha listens and now he utterly absorbs everything. He listens perfectly. The voices are indistinguishable, angry, loving, dying, all the same. He sees the world as a river, the wholeness of the river is the wholeness of the world, and now the voice comes to him in a single word, ‘om’. Siddhartha’s face takes on the same radiance of Vasudeva’s. He feels his wound blossoming and his ego becoming one with everything else.

Siddhartha’s suffering has stopped. He knows divine, perfect knowledge. Vasudeva sees that Siddhartha has this knowledge thanks to the river and happily he tells Siddhartha that he has been waiting for this moment, and now he can say goodbye to his life as a ferryman. He tells Siddhartha that he is going into the forest and into the oneness. Siddhartha bows to his friend and watches him walk away, full of peace and light.