This is like going to theaters for Star Wars, and getting stuck with the origin story of Jar Jar. Or I might have completely missed the point of this widely favoured work. 
 To me, Siddhartha(highly misleading title) was the embodiment of platitudes I've been overexposed to - the occident fixation on nirvana, self discovery, obsession with Om, asceticism and enlightenment. 
 I found, Siddhartha(not Buddha) as one classic lethargic intelligent, privileged to have born in an upper class rich family. In his selfish narcissistic pursuit for enlightenment, he conveniently chooses to ignore every obligation he has with life and loved ones; from which he eventually graduates to exploiting the extra niceties of hard working folks around, by portraying himself as the wise brahmin whom every one shall respect and care for. Author then calls for sympathy towards protagonist's so called material sufferings, by products of his own previous negligence or karma if you ask me, on grounds of monistic philosophy of Atman and Brahman, and cycle of Samsara; I simply couldn't align myself with that. In fact he was the proverbial silver spoon kid all along, self venerated and diplomatically renouncing though. 
 Maybe, if I wasn't raised among these pursuit of happiness, self realization, meaning of life stories or If the newfound wisdom of Sakyamunis and Buddha were exotic to the society I belong to, Hesse's masterpiece might have managed to evoke amazement or at least amusement for that matter. 
 Extra star for keeping it short.