I did. Both times. And still liked it. That was over forty years ago.
Somewhere between Lin Yutang's loafer/scamp, Hermann Hesse's oscillating seeker, and Han Shan's Cold Mountain Hermit -- Maugham's Larry Darrell has been to war, come back -- but not all the way. Some part of him is lost in the meaninglessness of war and death.
He weaves through the surface postures of prosperity. He pilgrimages to deeper vistas -- with grace and goodness.
"You see my dear, goodness is after all the greatest force in the world, and he's got it."I'm older now. Still looking. Grace and goodness continue to be profound longing. Even in fiction.
(--final line, W. Somerset Maugham in film THE RAZOR'S EDGE, 1946).
Or in fact.
My true home is Cold Mountain
perched among cliffs beyond the reach of trouble ...
The Tientiei Mountains are my home
mist-shrouded cloud paths keep guests away
thousand-meter cliffs make hiding easy
above a rocky ledge among ten thousand streams
with bark hat and wooden clogs I walk along the banks
with hemp robe and pigweed staff I walk around the peaks
once you see through transience and illusion
the joys of roaming free are wonderful indeed.
(-- anonymous 9th-century Chinese poet-hermit Han Shan, who called himself Cold Mountain.)