In Herzog, Saul Bellow introduces us to Moses Elkanah Herzog, a man in crisis, isolated in his large, aging country house, feverishly composing letter after letter—never to be sent—to friends, family members, and even famous figures long dead. Through these letters, Herzog poses relentless, existential questions that reflect his deep inner turmoil and intellectual restlessness.
As Bellow’s clear alter ego, Herzog embodies the anxieties of the post-Kennedy American intellectual, stripped of romantic illusions and caught in a whirlwind of contradiction. He is humiliated, yet takes pride in his suffering; broken, yet strangely hopeful. Despite the collapse of his personal life—his failed marriage, professional setbacks, and emotional disorientation—Herzog remains curiously resilient, clinging to the act of questioning itself as a form of meaning.
With brilliant prose and philosophical depth, Herzog is not just a portrait of one man’s descent and potential recovery, but a powerful exploration of identity, intellect, and the human need for understanding in a fractured world. Bellow crafts a character who, though lost, is never entirely defeated—perhaps because, like many of us, he knows that the answers may never come, but the questions are worth asking all the same.