A review by sarahreadsaverylot
Herzog, by Saul Bellow


Welcome to Herzog's "post-quixotic, post-Copernican U.S.A., where a mind freely poised in space might discover relationships utterly unsuspected by a seventeenth-century man sealed in his smaller universe." Nothing remains sealed in this world of heartrendingly effortless prose, where every sentence is a microcosm. Follow Herzog, that magnificent pierrot, along his epistolary journey of curiously exuberant entropy. Listen as he navigates that emotional landscape, crying, "what can thoughtful people and humanists do but struggle toward suitable words? Take me, for instance. I've been writing letters helter-skelter in all directions. More words. I go after reality with language. Perhaps I'd like to change it all into language...I must be trying to keep tight the tensions without which human beings can no longer be called human. If they don't suffer, they've gotten away from me. And I've filled the world with letters to prevent their escape. I want them in human form, and so I conjure up a whole environment and catch them in the middle. I put my whole heart into these constructions. But they are constructions." Revel in a novel that grows deeper and richer with every provoking page you turn.