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Herzog (Penguin Classics) by Saul Bellow
Book Summary InformationAuthor: Saul Bellow Introduction: Philip Roth Edition: Paperback Audio: English (Unknown); English (Original Language); English (Published) Published: 2003-02-25 ISBN: 0142437298 Number of pages: 400 Publisher: Penguin Classics
Book Reviews of Herzog (Penguin Classics)Book Review: Something wrong with the cover Summary: 3 Stars
In this the springing of the year I recently went asaling--yard saling, that is, for my neighborhood is chock full of individuals of all ages who quickly tire of the bric-a-brac they've accumulated throughout their household over the cold winter months (autumn, in some cases). Sandy-haired happy-faced children take to the streetcorners to hock their Schwinns, chains rusted unworkable, while homemaking women dutifully assemble a rainbow of carpet cleaners, toilet bowl bleachers, vacuum parts, brooms with purple plastic bristles, etc. And those are merely the minor outlying islands of this capitalist archipelago. Whatever you seek, you may count on discovering it in Myles's neighborhood, believe it.
My close friend and neighbor Brian L. stages every year a particularly interesting yard sale, always overflowing with fun-stuffed items. Most years I take my time and browse for several hours his well-worn wares. But this year the treasure fell (figuratively) into my lap (again figuratively) quite quickly (literally)! Resting on the grass adjacent a card table on which rested a red sitar I saw the most ravishing box of books I'd ever laid eyes on. The box itself was green and said 'ANTIQUES & WAFFLES' (a curious business venture, thought I, but no matter) but it was the inside which most struck me. Heaps of Penguin Classics editions! Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war. . . .
Before I continue with my review of this novel I do believe it would benefit the reader if, for context's sake, I elucidated for him the Penguin Classics editions already owned by me at the time of the yard sale:
The Riddle of the Sands by Robert E. Childers
Paradise Lost by John Milton
The Ambassadors by Henry James
Moby-Dick by Herman Melville
Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes
Each was as those contained in the box: an image at the foretop, white band displaying 'P E N G U I N [symbol] C L A S S I C S' below, then the author's name in fresh bold orange, followed by the title of the novel in slender italic typeface, below which short mention of the introduction and its author. Allow me to make it clear right this instant that I have never read any of these books; no, it is their elegant and understated design which so entices me.
I picked up the box of books and brought them to Brian who, after some finagling and wheeling and dealing, declared he would accept $250 for the whole thing. That is outrageous, I told him. I will not pay that! Guffaw from the man-child. He put his arm around my bony shoulders and said he would lower his asking price to $35 if I would pull his beard. OK, I said, but just this once. I took between the very tips of my thumb and forefinger several white follicles (cut inordinately short for this kind of business, thought I) and gave a gentle tug. Oh yay, he said, smiling. One more time! he demanded. I obeyed. Yeaaaaaaaah, he said, that's the stuff. I wiped off my fingers on my beige corduroy trousers, gave him the money and hastily made my exit.
Rummaging through the box at home I came upon a book whose cover has been eternally seared into my heart: Herzog, by Saul Bellow. The image on the cover? A crumpled paper ball well-inked with words (I can make out 'with,' 'at,' of,' 'by,' O pristine poetry!), destined for the dustbin. Bellow's dustbin? I know him not. Perhaps he was anything but wasteful of paper. That is not why I am here. I knew what would be my purpose here as soon as I put my hand to the cover itself. Expecting the smooth texture most frequently associated with bookcovers, I found instead an awful gritty surface better fit to sand the hull of a three-masted man-of-war than to serve as a usable book cover. I recoiled in horror. Had I felt what I felt I felt? No? Another try then. No change. I dropped the disgusting thing and ran into the bathroom to vomit into the toilet. Afterward I retired to my bedroom where I lay recuperating for nearly twenty-four hours. The following week Herzog still lay where I had left it. I obtained a pair of tongs from a kitchen drawer and slowly, carefully approached the novel, concentrating hard so as not to make any sudden movements. Utilizing the tongs I grasped gently a collection of pages and, keeping it at arm's length, returned to my kitchen where I deposited the sandpaper-bound novel atop a small hill of wet coffee grounds and a browned banana peel.
Why was this edition put between sandpaper? None of the others in the box were, nor all the Penguin Classics editions owned by me previously. I even journeyed to Barnes & Noble to inspect the editions on their shelves. I found nothing out of sort, not a thing.
I have written to Penguin USA and expect from them a prompt apology. I will post an update regarding this matter at the appropriate time.
This would get one start if it were not for the beautiful cover, its sole redeeming virtue so far as I could tell.
Summary of Herzog (Penguin Classics)In one of his finest achievements, Nobel Prize winner Saul Bellow presents a multifaceted portrait of a modern-day hero, a man struggling with the complexity of existence and longing for redemption. A novel complex, compelling, absurd and realistic, Herzog became a classic almost as soon as it was published in 1964. In it Saul Bellow tells the tale of Moses E. Herzog, a tragically confused intellectual who suffers from the breakup of his second marriage, the general failure of his life and the specter of growing up Jewish in the middle part of the 20th century. He responds to his personal crisis by sending out a series of letters to all kinds of people. The letters in total constitute a thoughtful examination of his own life and that which has occurred around him. What emerges is not always pretty, but serves as gritty foundation for this absorbing novel.
Classics Books
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