Summary

Moses Herzog is temporarily living in his country house, in the town of Ludeyville in the Massachusetts Berkshires. He admits, in the novel's first line, that he may have lost his mind, but "it's all right" with him. He appears to be undergoing a necessary catharsis, feeling "confident, cheerful, clairvoyant, and strong...writing letters to everyone under the sun." These letters are addressed both to intimates and strangers, living and dead, public figures, scientists, philosophers, governments, and newspapers. Herzog grants himself minimal luxuries in the country house, eating food straight from the package and sleeping either on a mattress without sheets ("...it was his abandoned marriage bed") or in a hammock blanketed by his overcoat. Devoid of pride, he has no qualms about eating food that rats and mice have chewed through, claiming that he can "share with the rats, too." He delights in his natural surroundings, relishing the "harsh call" of the crows and the "birds gorging in the mulberry tree." His sanity is the main thing thrown into question during the first few paragraphs of the chapter, though the cause of his crack-up remains a mystery.

The narrative that follows consists of an amalgam of Moses's letters, memories and reflections. We learn that he has been traumatized by his recent divorce from his second wife, Madeleine, and by her long-term involvement with his best friend, Valentine Gersbach. He has started writing letters. We learn that Herzog had used the money he inherited from his father to pay for the house in the Berkshires, hoping it might please Madeleine and allow him peace to write the second volume of his book. However, Madeleine felt suffocated as an isolated country housewife, and began a secret affair with Gersbach. Moses, oblivious, secured Gersbach a radio job in Chicago, at which point Madeleine pressed for a move.

Shortly after their relocation Madeleine ended the marriage. "'It's painful to have to say I never loved you," Madeleine told Herzog. "I never will love you, either." In this flashback scene, Madeleine shows herself to be much stronger than Moses; even Herzog recognizes that her pride is "so fully satisfied, that there was an overflow of strength into her intelligence" and that he is "witnessing one of the very greatest moments of her life." He is completely crushed, left lying on the sofa "with no more style than a chimpanzee." Madeleine has done him in.

Following the divorce, Herzog begins writing a number of letters to various figures in his life, including his various lovers and his first wife, Daisy. He pays a visit to his and Madeleine's mutual physician, Doctor Emmerich, in New York, craving a medical diagnosis for his addled state. Herzog is "hoping for some definite sickness which would send him to a hospital for a while...(to) not have to look after himself." Dr. Emmerich, however, finds him in good physical health. Herzog tries unsuccessfully to find sympathy in Emmerich for his plight, calling Madeleine "'a violent, hysterical woman.'" Emmerich offers no opinion, but suggests an outing with another woman.

It is at this point that we meet Ramona, a vivacious student with whom Herzog has been having an affair for some time. While very attracted to Ramona, calling her a sexual "priestess," Herzog worries that her intentions are too serious, and he decides to flee New York and stay in Martha's Vineyard with his old friend and love interest, Libbie Vane-Erikson Sissler. In hopes of "shenanigans," Herzog buys a fancy new set of clothes, but his new dapper look reminds him of Gersbach, and so Herzog plunges into despair once more. The chapter ends as he exits his apartment with his bags, reminiscing about Wanda, yet another mistress.

Analysis

The fact that Herzog is first introduced to us in complete isolation colors him as a withdrawn, intellectual character, connected more closely with the thoughts in his head than with the world around him. Herzog is immediately shown to be an idealist, a Romantic and a dreamer whose dreams have been recently shattered. His unsent letters are a means of communication not with others but with himself, lending all the figures in his life the equivalent status of phantoms he may investigate to better understand himself.

His primitive lifestyle in the Ludeyville house suggests low self-esteem and depression, but also new beginnings. Herzog eats foods straight from the can and the package. He eats wild raspberries off the bush. Both of his beds are impermanent, particularly the hammock, the traditional bed of adventurous sailors. In the hammock, Herzog opens his eyes in the nighttime to find the stars "near like spiritual bodies." Large, swelling stars suggest a young earth, the Big Bang. Herzog exists in harmony with his environment, suggesting an end and a new beginning. He lives in peaceful, transitive limbo.

Herzog's multiplicity of names reinforce for the reader the shattered nature of his identity. It should be noted that in the opening paragraphs describing his solitude, he is referred to by his last name. It is not until Dr. Edvig utters his first name do we learn it is Moses, and only during the break-up scene do we learn his full name: Moses Elkanah Herzog. Moses is referred to interchangeably thereafter as Herzog, Moses, Moses E. Herzog, and on some occasions by his full name.

Herzog's name, taken from a minor character in James Joyce's Ulysses, is significant in itself. "Moses" was the Biblical figure who led the Jews into Egypt. Before this, however, baby Moses was sent adrift on a river by his mother to escape the slaughter of infant male Jews. This drifting, this helplessly transient state, characterizes Moses at the opening of the novel. "Elkanah," his middle name, refers to a wealthy citizen of Bethlehem with two wives and two children. It also means "blessed by god." This middle name signifies a more secure entity than either the first or the last, and the rarity of its appearance throughout the book represents Moses' instability and uncertainty. The last name, Herzog, means "duke" in German. This contributes to Moses' image of himself as a crumbling monarch.

The voice flows in both first and third person, connoting not only Moses's addled brain but also an autobiographical thread. Herzog and Bellow do have similar pasts, given their Jewish heritage, intellectualism, and bootlegger fathers. Furthermore, the prose of Moses' cathartic letters resembles that of the exposition. Regardless of typeface, the novel's voice remains consistent throughout, suggesting a parallel between author and protagonist. The frank emotionalism of the prose weds the reader to Herzog's perspective. We are not told at the very beginning the cause of his breakdown; this is because Herzog himself denies it.

Women and sex also emerge as major themes in this chapter - the elements which cause him the most pain and the aspects of life in which he seeks salvation. Madeleine's rejection devastates Herzog, yet he consistently describes her as a radiant being rising in "distinction, in brilliance, in insight." He praises Ramona as a "sexual goddess," and admits to the power her sexuality holds over him. He admits: "In the depths of a man's being there was something that responded with a quack to such perfume. Quack! A sexual reflex that had nothing to do with age or subtlety, wisdom, experience, history, Wissenschaft, Bildung, Wahrheit. In sickness or health there came the old quack-quack at the fragrance of perfumed, feminine skin." He worries about becoming her "captive professor," and it is precisely for this reason that, despite his lust, he flees from her.

Summary

Herzog is in a cab en route to Grand Central Station. He begins a letter-writing frenzy which persists throughout the chapter, punctuated by Moses' recollections. The first of these letters is to Tennie, Madeleine's mother, in which Herzog apologizes for not visiting her since the divorce. He reflects on Tennie and pities her for her divorce from Madeleine's brutal actor-father. Though no longer bound to a marital role, she clings to the duties of a housewife; Herzog recounts how she "prepares the old man's tax returns for him. Keeps all his records, washes his socks. Last time, I saw his socks drying on the radiator in her bathroom." He compares himself to Tennie and concludes: "her condition is worse than mine. Divorced at fifty-five, still showing off her legs, unaware they are now gaunt." These thoughts are promptly interrupted by the cab's arrival.

The train recalls for Moses the holidays of his youth, and we get a glimpse of his idyllic childhood in Montreal. He reflects that "a holiday should begin with a train ride." On the platform he writes a letter to Aunt Zelda, flashing back to a conversation in which she accused Herzog of selfishness, of isolating Madeleine in the country and ignoring her and subsequently driving her into Gersbach's arms. According to her, Herzog prizes his work above all things. This accusation does indeed ring true, and Herzog does not deny it, yet he is too weak to articulate what is going through his brain: "But then didn't we buy the house because she wanted to, and move out when she wanted to?" He thinks of himself as "a broken-down monarch," comparing himself to his "ineffectual bootlegger" father. It is also revealed that Madeleine rejected him sexually, an insult that perhaps injures Moses more than any other.

Following his letter to Zelda, Herzog writes to Lucas Asphalter, who informed Herzog of Madeleine's affair. There is mention of a letter from Geraldine, babysitter to June, the daughter of Moses and Madeleine. During the train ride to the Vineyard, Moses writes a letters to Dr. Bhave (the leader of the Indian utopian movement), considering joining his movement; to the President about taxes; to the New York Times about radiation; to Dr. Emmett Strawforth about Hiroshima; to Dr. Edvig complaining about his destructive influence on Moses' marriage and likely crush on Mady. Moses' letter-writing streak is interrupted by the thought of June.

In Section 3, as Moses ferries out to Martha's vineyard, he writes more letters, some of which he leaves unfinished. He begins by writing to the governor, then spins off into a letter to Ramona pleading that she not take offense at his departure, assuring her that he cares for her. He considers marrying her, then considers his excess of unfinished business with so many women. His letters turn political; he writes to Martin Luther King and to Nehru. He writes to scholar and writer Shapiro, whose work he reviewed and who presented another threat to his marriage to Madeleine during one visit in the Berkshires. Moses recalls the way in which Madeleine seemed dazzled by Shapiro and eagerly conversed with him, while Moses sat quietly by. He compares Shapiro to Gersbach, as both of them are loud, attractive, and skilled conversationalists. He then resentfully recalls Madeleine's fanatical nature, the way in which academics replaced religion as a subject for her obsession after Moses abandoned his own perfectly good academic life to move her out to the Berkshires. Reference is made to the "harsh" nature surrounding the scene for which Moses seems to pine, as can be seen in the following passage:

"If they were not all so particular, detailed, and very rich I might have more rest from them. But I am a prisoner of perception, a compulsory witness. They are too exciting. Meantime I dwell in yon house of dull boards. Herzog was worried about that elm. Must he cut it down? He hated to do it. Meanwhile the cicadas all vibrated a coil in their bellies, a horny posterior band in a special chamber. Those billions of red eyes from the enclosing woods looked out, stared down, and the steep waves of sound drowned the summer afternoon. Herzog had seldom heard anything so beautiful as this massed continual harshness."

In his letter, Moses again proves himself a Romantic in criticizing Shapiro's cold, analytical views on history: "But we mustn't forget how quickly the visions of genius become the canned goods of intellectuals..." He then writes a very brief letter to his brother, Shura, who is said to be the opposite of Moses. Shura is cold, calculating, and businesslike, very successful, someone who never thinks twice about offering his family financial help. Moses thinks of what a dismal failure he must appear in the eyes of his brother: "His handsome, stout, white-haired brother in his priceless suit, vicuña coat, Italian hat, his million-dollar shave and rosy manicured fingers with big rings, looking out of his limousine with princely hauteur. Shura knew everyone, paid off everyone, and despised everyone. Toward Moses his contempt was softened by family feeling. Shura was your true disciple of Thomas Hobbes. Universal concerns were idiocy."

He writes to his ex-lawyer, Sandor Himmelstein. Sandor and his wife put up Moses for a brief time immediately after the divorce. He recalls a conversation in which Sandor criticized him for his weak demeanor, claiming that such instability will never win Moses custody of his daughter, June. He talks Moses into an insurance policy engineered to support June in the event of Moses's death or insanity, upsetting Moses by implying that he is, in fact, insane. When Moses objects, Sandor raises his voice and a passionate argument ensues. Sandor challenges Moses to shed his mopey state. He appeals to Moses as one of his own: a Jewish "sufferer." He ends the fight with a numb embrace that Moses resignedly names "potato love."

Boarding the ferry, Moses tastes again the glory of the open water and the cleanliness of the light: "His heart was greatly stirred by the open horizon; the deep colors; the faint iodine pungency of the Atlantic rising from weeds and mollusks; the white, fine, heavy sand; but principally by the green transparency as he looked down to the stony bottom webbed with golden lines. Never still. If his soul could cast a reflection so brilliant, and so intensely sweet, he might beg God to make such use of him. But that would be too simple. But that would be too childish. The actual sphere is not clear like this, but turbulent, angry. A vast human action is going on. Death watches. So if you have some happiness, conceal it. And when your heart is full, keep your mouth shut also."

He considers, as the boat docks in the Vineyard, that he is mistreating Libbie by exploiting her sympathy. He realizes that he does not need comforting, that in fact the journey was all he needed. Guilty, he sneaks away after a brief visit, leaving a note: "Have to go back. Not able to stand kindness at this time. Feelings, heart, everything in strange condition. Unfinished business. Bless you both. And much happiness. Toward end of summer, perhaps, if you will give me a rain check. Gratefully, Moses."

He returns home by eleven that night. The letter from the babysitter Geraldine Portnoy, referenced in the previous chapter, reveals to Moses that Valentine, during a fight with Madeleine, locked June in the car and left her there sobbing. Geraldine also mentions Madeleine's manipulative temperament. Moses is appalled by the tale.

Analysis

The third chapter documents a milestone in Moses' journey to mental health, as he leaves Martha's Vineyard full of confidence in his own independence. For the first time, we can see him considering the needs of another and fulfilling them without resentment, as well as admitting his own mistake. Facing his faults without being crushed by them is a difficult process for Moses in his fragile state. His actions in Martha's Vineyard not only reveal his sense of integrity but also foreshadow a successful recovery.

We also get a glimpse of Moses' first encounter with "potato love," or humanistic affection. The description of Himmelstein's outburst is dramatic, perhaps a little exaggerated by Moses' memory. The dogged documentation of the confrontation signifies the considerable impact it made on Moses, and the honor that Moses exhibits towards Libbie (see above) subsequent to his recollection shows him taking this into account.

We the readers are likewise privy to Moses' contempt for cold intellectualism and his sense of inferiority, both convictions which seem to validate his views. To Herzog, Madeleine not only robbed him of his life, but adopted it herself. He resentfully associates Madeleine, Gersbach, and Shapiro with one another and insecurely distances himself from them. But, with the disgust at the more calculating members of his society, Moses' streak of idealism does emerge: for one, we get a clear taste in this chapter of Moses' attraction to nature and the truth and clarity it embodies. At the same time, death looms continually in his mind; he punctuates his appraisal of the sky and sea with "Death watches." Moses' paranoia and sense of entrapment are unavoidable, as is his self-doubt; in the end, he can't help but deny himself the freedom he feels.

We meet Moses' brother, Shura, and get a sense of Moses' emotional alienation from his family members and his disdain for the love he feels toward them. Moses' Jewish identity is also brought to the forefront. The label Sandor applies to him feels insufficient, signifying the complexity of his identity crisis, a crisis which no single appellation can describe, let alone solve.

Summary

On the morning following his return, Moses writes more letters. He writes to the priest Monsignor Hilton, who converted Madeleine to Christianity, intending to somehow blame him for what has occurred. He cannot make a clear connection, however, and his thoughts promptly retreat to his separation from Daisy, his first wife. During that time he drank heavily and took pills. He was involved with a Japanese woman name Sono Oguki. He remembers commuting from Philadelphia, where he lived, to New York to work and to visit Marco, his son from his first marriage. He remembers being in love with Madeleine and wanting to marry her. Her parents, Tennie and Pontritter, found Moses a fine source of stability for their temperamental daughter. Madeleine claimed to be disgusted by her parents, describing Tennie as weak and subordinate and Pontritter as brutal and sexually abusive. Tennie, in turn, told Moses that he would save Madeleine, whose bipolarity is deeply rooted.

Moses recalls country life with the newly converted Christian Madeleine. He remembers finding Madeleine's piety exhaustingly melodramatic, and he remembers her pressing him to divorce Daisy so that she might marry him in Church. Eventually he did divorce Daisy and marry Madeleine, who at that point had dropped religion, showing herself interested in theatrics beyond anything else. He bought the place in the Berkshires and started fixing it up. Madeleine's discontentment as a housewife began to swell. By this time she was pregnant.

Moses remembers the conservative nature of his first wife Daisy, reading her vicious, chilly organization as a response to his tendency toward chaos, an uneasy mixture that ultimately ended the marriage.

His thoughts then flow to the memory of his childhood on Napoleon Street in Montreal, and to his boyhood friend, Nachman, whom he has recently glimpsed on the street in New York. He remembers Nachman's love affair in Paris with a neurotic woman named Laura. When Laura's parents took her away to America, Moses loaned Nachman the money to pursue her. Laura ended up in an asylum, much to Nachman's dismay. This memory is followed by thoughts of Jonah, his deadbeat father, scolded by militant Aunt Zipporah for being a weak man: "'Blame your own weak nature,' said Zipporah. 'Az du host a schwachen natur, wer is dir schuldig? You can't stand alone. You leaned on Sarah's brother, and now you want to lean on me...Get your hands dirty? Not you.'"

More reminiscences flood Moses' mind, and the onslaught leads him to ponder his own Jewish upbringing, and thereby his identity. The chapter ends with the assertion that Laura must have ultimately killed herself.

Analysis

As seen in the last chapter, death is constantly on Moses' mind. It punctuates everything, and its presence as a kind of mental phantom is further evidence of the swelling existential depression he is shouldering.

We meet his family for the first time en masse and perceive how his well-intentioned yet weak father crumbles beneath Aunt Zipporah's dynamism. Mother Herzog is a nameless, background figure and flawless caretaker to whom Moses need answer for nothing. This dynamic mirrors the way Moses relates to women throughout the novel; more crucially, it perhaps gives us insight as to why. Indeed, the present is inextricably linked to the past, adulthood to childhood, the disappointments of marriage to the pangs of first love.

The roots and the nature of Madeleine's madness also emerge through the writing, and Moses' frenzied thoughts. His own reasons for marrying Madeleine are somewhat foggy; the integration of her parents into the scene suggests that his intentions at the time were unclear. Madeleine appears to have been more of a distraction for him than anything else. He thinks of himself as her caretaker, which prompts in him deep resentment, we learn later on, as Herzog himself longs for caretaking. We also witness the passivity that Herzog inherited from his father, as it takes Madeleine's persuasion for him to finally end the marriage with Daisy and marry her in the first place. Nachman's allegiance to Laura, considered in the same chapter, calls into question the effect madness has on infatuation.

The introduction of Daisy suggests that Herzog's frenetic nature is a constant trait and not merely a result of recent difficulties. Bellow is slowly but surely building a history of Herzog's inability to cope with intimacy. From this impasse, a kind of pathological alienation develops; Moses feels nothing for those whom he thinks he should love. He is adrift, spiritually and emotionally a loner. The intense subjectivity of the prose emerges as a reflection of Herzog's own inward perspective; whether we sympathize or not, the various strands of the protagonist's psyche and persona come into sharper focus in this chapter. We have here some sort of a tragic hero (or anti-hero), plagued by immutable flaws. Perhaps Moses is not so far off after all when he likens himself to the fallen monarchs of old.

Summary

Ramona calls Moses to invite him to dinner. She playfully accuses him of running out on her, which Moses denies. She bolsters his confidence, berating him: "Then why do you keep aloof, and make me chase you? I realize you want to play the field." She subsequently unleashes one of her dreaded lectures.

Moses agrees to come to dinner and, after hanging up the phone, criticizes himself for his "ridiculous, angry letters! The spite and frenzy in them!" He experiences a violent rage in recounting his polite words to the Monsignor: "I am not writing with the purpose of exposing Madeleine, or to attack you." He tears up the letter, enjoying a pure, murderous fury directed towards both parties.

He then prepares for dinner. He composes, in the process, a letter to Eisenhower about the Cold War, then decides to draw up an outline on "the 'inspired condition'" for his old tutor, Harris Pulver. Herzog claims this condition for the Romantic thinker, and writes that it allows one "to know truth, to be free, to love another, to consummate existence, to abide with death in the clarity of consciousness-without which, racing and conniving to evade death, the spirit...is no longer a rarefied project." He then travels to Ramona's.

Over a decadent meal, Moses finds himself unable to stop telling Ramona about everything he has been enduring. He ponders her many admirers, namely the suicidally devoted George Hoberly, who is still trying to win her back with presents. He talks endlessly, until Ramona plies him from his philosophizing with sex. Afterwards, Moses considers writing to Hoberly, but instead falls into bed, admiring Ramona as she slumbers...

Analysis

In this chapter Ramona seems to take a genuine interest in Moses and his troubles, establishing herself as a secure force in his life - perhaps the only hope he has so far as a human connection is concerned. Moses, for his part, buckles beneath his needs and explodes with feeling. Ramona's attentiveness gives him excuse to lance the wound. His return to that which he thought he fled marks another step in his recovery. We see now that it was not sexual slavery he was running from, but his own emotional vulnerability.

The "murderous" fury he feels towards Madeleine demonstrates a fullness of feeling we have not yet encountered in Herzog. This signifies his slow passage from depression into self-affirmation. It also foreshadows the scandal with the revolver, which will later play a major role in the narrative. Though our experience of this narrative is constantly framed by Moses' own thoughts, his own interiority, Bellow does, it should be noted, structure his fabula with conventional novelistic modalities; rhymes, echoes, and foreshadowings populate the story, suggesting an authorial presence beyond Herzog's own will. Who, one might wonder, is "writing" Moses' life?

Returning to the said narrative, Herzog's letter to Pulver helps further clarify his relationship to the concept of death. He argues passionately for seizing the moment and accepting death for what it is, rather than living in denial. The passage is significant because it highlights his own dilemma; it shows him struggling to push himself over his own mental hurdle. The death of his mother has traumatized Herzog. His failure to assert himself as a husband and a father is rooted in this void, a structuring absence that has endured for thirty years.

In his letter to Eisenhower, Herzog talks about the "inward lives" of Americans. He cites Hegel's idea that the "essence" of humanity stems from history. This explains his incessant reliving and consideration of memories throughout the novel. Meanwhile, his ongoing cultural-identity crisis is underlined when Ramona tells him that she does not perceive him to be American; he is, simply put, wounded by the comment. What is the "essence" of humanity if that humanity is defined by nationality? Through implication, Herzog's Jewish identity returns as something to consider; the problems stemming from the Jewish-American identity have provided Bellow with the thematic of much of his fiction, and Herzog is no exception.

Summary

Moses feels genuinely happy the next morning as he escorts Ramona to work after breakfast. He wonders if his suffering has earned him "the right to ignore what anyone might think" of such a contrast in ages. His newfound confidence dissolves, however, as he enters a cab and is left alone with himself, "the inescapable Moses Elkanah Herzog." Riddled with his usual self-doubt, he decides to take charge of his responsibilities as a father and visit his son at camp. He also decides to discuss Valentine's abusive behavior with the lawyer, Simkin.

After a long, snide conversation, Simkin agrees to meet Moses later that day at the courthouse. Moses writes more letters, and stumbles upon a memory of Valentine lighting Hanukkah candles for his son, Ephraim, and dancing about. He recalls the expression on Madeleine's face, "a look like a steel binder bent open." He realizes it was a look of true love. Realizing also that the two must therefore have a right to one another, he grows all the more furious.

He visits Marco, making sure to accommodate Daisy, whose life has been difficult in the face of her mother's senility: "She had got it into her head that Moses had divorced Daisy because she was a streetwalker...Daisy never overcame her heavy-heartedness." He reflects on the deterioration of Daisy's mother, Polina, from "every inch the suffragist and 'modern woman' with her pince-nez and abundant gray hair" into a deluded geriatric.

On the way to meet Simkin at the courthouse, Moses's taxi driver compliments his taste in women, having seen him earlier with Ramona. Waiting for Simkin in the courthouse, Moses witnesses cases dealing with assault and robbery, a male prostitute, a store hold-up and sexual harassment. Following these, Herzog undergoes a spell in which he feels "as though something terrible, inflammatory, bitter, had been grated into his bloodstream and stung and burned his veins, his face, his heart." This drives him momentarily from the courtroom. He experiences a flashback of his mother's death and remembers the way that she tried to comfort him until the end. Pulling himself together, he tries to locate Simkin, then returns and watches the trial of a mother accused of the murder of her child. This sends him back into a spasm. He speeds from the courtroom, vomit rising in his throat.

Analysis

Moses describes Polina as having once been "a modern woman," meaning that she was once independent and strong. Her descent into dementia may mirror what is in store for Madeleine, another "modern woman". Is this what Moses, on some level, wants? Bellow leaves the question open, while his protagonist stumbles onward toward some kind of recovery.

In that vein, Moses is indeed finally trying to take charge of his life in a practical way, asserting himself in the fatherly role away from which he heretofore shied. The bliss he experiences with Ramona might signify the thawing of his heart and his embracing of the finer side of "potato love."

Once "thawed", however, Moses faces a few harsh realities. His memory of Madeleine's look of love and the realization of his foolishness angers him greatly, as it is thereafter impossible to lie to himself any longer. He then can only observe powerlessly the trials, his agitation and excitement growing after the first few, which spark the memory of his mother's death. It is a memory that has been silently haunting him, and the final trial does nothing to improve his state. In a way, Moses is finally experiencing that "harshness" for which he has pined - the ineluctable realities of human life. Emotional attachment carries with it uncomfortable baggage.

It is perhaps ironic that this reversal arrives via a spectacle of sorts - the trial. Moses repeatedly asserts himself as an author throughout the novel; each letter he writes may be interpreted as another attempt to control his own life. Writing is, after all, the ultimate control, abstract and removed on some absolute level from the strangeness, the cacophony, the "harshness" of life. Here, however, Moses is relegated to the status of spectator; the passiveness we have witnessed in his relations with people is here codified into a kind of metaphor of the proscenium. The fallen monarch, the tragic hero, is stripped of will; he is helpless, and can do nothing but watch a story not his own unfold inside the courtroom.

What is telling about this moment in the novel is its immediacy, and the way in which Bellow abstracts an instance of narrative. Herzog is stripped of his own authorial voice and forced to contemplate a world over which he has little control. Is this a set-back in his road to recovery? It is perhaps instead a moment of enlightenment, in which the complexities of humanity assert themselves as, on some fundamental level, unfathomable, indescribable; they cannot be reduced to pithy letters of the kind in which Moses traffics.

Summary

Moved by the mother's murder trial, Moses flees to Chicago, aching to save his own daughter. Before visiting Madeleine he stops at the house of his late father, in which his widow, Taube, now resides. He reflects on the way Taube's firm, deliberate nature contrasts so fiercely with his hot-tempered family: "they had all inherited their father's preposterous quickness and elegance." He gazes at pictures of his family and Taube, and as the widow talks his mind wanders. He recalls the day that he and his father quarreled over money and Jonah pointed a gun at him, driving him out and threatening to leave him nothing in his will. Luckily, Taube interceded disaster at that point.

As Taube fetches Moses water in his father's teacup, our hero goes to his father's desk and pockets the man's pistol, padding it with old Rubles for Marco. He entertains thoughts of killing his second ex-wife and her lover. He drinks his water and departs, driving to Harper Avenue, where Madeleine lives. He parks around the corner and sneaks around the house from window to window, spotting Madeleine in the kitchen and Valentine bathing his daughter in the bathroom. His tender manner defeats Herzog's intentions, and he retreats, realizing that he could not have killed them. He compares himself to his father, thinking "that Father Herzog had never - not once in his life - pulled the trigger of this gun. Only threatened."

He visits Phoebe Gersbach to appeal for her aid in his gaining custody of June. Phoebe is reluctant: she rejects the black portrait Moses paints of Valentine, denying his affair with Madeleine and insisting that he is a good husband. She eventually exhibits some sympathy toward Moses, but remains unhelpful.

Moses spends the night with Asphalter and is graced once again with the sensation of humanistic "potato love." More sympathetic than Phoebe, Asphalter arranges a meeting between Moses and June. Madeleine's condition is that Asphalter pick up June so that Madeleine does not have to see Moses. As the night passes, Moses and Asphalter discuss the latter's beloved dead monkey; Asphalter mentions having to "face the music" in order to move beyond his depression. He emphasizes the importance of facing one's own death, describing an exercise in which one lies, as if dead, in a casket and thinks about what to say to each person who visits. "Now there's nothing to say but what you really thought," claims Asphalter. "And you don't say it to them because you're dead, but only to yourself. Reality, not illusions." The friends talk at length before parting for bed.

As Section 8 begins, Moses enjoys a joyful reunion with June. It is painful, too, particularly as June is overflowing with praise for Valentine, or "Uncle Val." She tells Moses that she "'was crying. But not long'" when Valentine locked her in the car, and assures him that while Uncle Val makes good faces, Moses tells much better stories. June tells Moses that Madeleine has forbidden her to talk about Uncle Val, for fear of angering her father. Moses tells her that this is not so. He tells her a story, gives her a periscope, and takes her on an outing to the Museum of Science and the aquarium, at the same time remembering his father's funeral.

On the way home from the aquarium, Moses' paternal bliss is terminated when his rental car is rammed into a utility pole by a truck. Moses falls unconscious, but luckily June is unhurt.

The cops find the unlicensed gun; they take Herzog and his daughter to the station. Herzog curses his excessive emotionality, realizing that his quest to "save" June from her Uncle Val has only endangered her life. He worries she is permanently traumatized and is struck by a sudden memory of rape from his childhood he has shared with no one. He shudders, then thinks of how "the tender-minded must harden themselves." He experiences a revelation that death is God, then apologizes to his daughter as the police take him in for questioning.

Moses claims to have taken the gun from his father's desk for its sentimental value. He protests when the sergeant calls Madeleine to come collect June. She appears to Moses to be radiant and powerful; Herzog notes that "her conduct was masterful." Moses struggles to maintain a calm demeanor as Madeleine paints as him dangerously insane, admitting to having given a photograph of him to the Hyde Park police "in case he prowled around the house." She accuses him of intending to shoot her. Moses unnerves her by coolly asking her who she thought the gun's second bullet was for. The police escort Madeleine out, and a three hundred dollar bond is set on Moses' head. He calls his brother Will to bail him out.

In his cell, Herzog writes letters to Dr. Edvig, Ramona, and God, each one positive in tone. Will collects him and takes him to the doctor to get his broken rib taped. Will exhibits great concern for Herzog and advises him to take a "complete rest - bed rest." Moses intends to spend a week in Ludeyville. There is talk of selling the place.

Analysis

Moses experiences another frightening familial flashback in this chapter, indicating the extent to which his self-esteem was battered by his father's disdain. Moses takes a leaf out of his own history, finding some solace in the fact that his father only used the gun to threaten, and that for him to do the same is therefore quite natural. Herzog is here embodying Hegel's philosophy, utilizing his past to justify his present. In one sense Herzog is building a closer relationship with the family that he claims to "childishly" love than he ever has before.

Moreover, he claims a specific family identity, calling Taube slow in comparison to all of "the Herzogs." This affords him enough confidence to stalk Madeleine's house, pistol in pocket, as well as enough security in his own intentions to turn away. Though to any jury Moses may still seem an insidious character, he is regaining his sense of self-worth and therefore his sanity.

His interaction with Phoebe shows him to be in a much more robust state of mind than Mrs. Gersbach. Still in denial about her husband's infidelity, Phoebe argues for his character, denying Moses any affinity he attempts to establish with her. As Moses notes, appearances are everything to Phoebe. Without Valentine cementing her as a spouse she "could not exist, cook, make beds. The trance would break. Then what?" The difference between Phoebe and Herzog is clear: Phoebe requires the spiritual peace of security, whereas Moses requires the goodness to be real.

His realism regarding his situation suits his purpose well. He embraces the "potato love" connection he has with Asphalter, and reaps the benefits. Asphalter offers him therapeutic advice, encouraging Moses to face his own death. In doing this Moses must face death as a concept and live outside of his mother's ghost, lucid about his own mortality. Accepting of an end, he is able to make the most of his life. He arranges to do so in the next chapter, and Bellow has paved the way for the novel's final arc.

In the following chapter, however, Bellow introduces a sort of deus ex machina. The car accident is a narrative turning point - not a projection of interiority, but rather an example of the outside world come crashing in.

Moses' criticism of his own emotionality is of course reinforced after the accident. He relives a painful memory from which he has fled almost his entire life; he is forced to swallow it and live in the present. It is becoming clear that Moses has learned to extract wisdom from his past, and not to merely dwell there.

He realizes, through observing June's reaction to the accident, that he does not wish her to be seeing any of it. His own vivid memory makes him understand the gravity with which an event may traumatize a child, and he wishes to protect June from any psychological scars. By assuming parental responsibility and caring so deeply for another, Herzog has finally transformed from a man in need of care to himself a caretaker. Unlike Madeleine, June seems to Moses thoroughly entitled to his care, and the "correctness" of the situation - the extent to which Moses feels, finally, morally and emotionally justified - means he is no longer treading water.

Madeleine is still "masterful," yet Herzog rises up and defeats his demon at last. Brought to the challenge of meeting her face to face, irked by the police's suggestion that he might be "scared of her," he does not buckle beneath Madeleine's manipulative insults. Rather, he frightens her out of her throne.

The letter Herzog composes to Dr. Edvig while in jail expresses an acceptance of "ambiguities" which has eluded him until presently. This is significant of the end of his quest for a concrete identity and his acceptance of all change, including death. He also writes to Ramona intending to stay in touch. This embrace of continuity and evolution is a new, healthy development in Herzog.

"Potato love" abounds with his brother, Will, who worries for Moses. Rather than fly into a self-righteous rage, Herzog listens to these concerns. He has rediscovered his humanity and feels secure therein.

Summary

The next day, Moses is back in Ludeyville, finding it pleasing despite its state of decay and disarray. He examines the old canned foods, the fancier of which were brought by Madeleine. He notices the shower railing they had put in especially for the crippled Valentine Gersbach. He finds proof on the sofa "that the place was indeed visited by lovers," and delights in the fact that they appear to have slept in his room. He writes Ramona a gentle apology and Marco an invitation to join him and "rough it" in "the old homestead." These letters are the first that Moses actually sends; he sends them through Asphalter to keep his whereabouts mysterious to the persistent Ramona. He then begins a rash of letters he will not send, making peace with Valentine and Madeleine, at first criticizing Nietzsche but then praising him for wanting to "make us able to live with the void." These letters have a markedly joyful tone.

Upon his visit, Will presses Moses to put the house up for sale. He expresses concern for Moses's mental state. Herzog protests this worry and becomes impassioned, grappling with his emotions to maintain a sane composure. He resists Will's suggestions of hospitalization and instead convinces him to escort him to the house of the Tuttles, a local couple who can help Moses fix up the house.

Moses discovers at the Tuttles that Ramona has been trying to contact him, saying she is in town. They meet up; Moses introduces her to Will and invites her for dinner. Will, though impressed with her looks, warns Moses not to fall for her should she prove a beautiful fanatic, as Madeleine was. Moses reassures his brother with an air of utter security. Will departs.

The novel closes on Moses preparing dinner. He realizes "perhaps he'd stop writing letters. Yes, that was what was coming, in fact. The knowledge that he was done with these letters. Whatever had come over him during these last months, the spell, really seemed to be passing, really going." The final words of the novel echo this resolution, as Moses realizes: "At this time he had no messages for anyone. Nothing. Not a single word."

Analysis

Moses is pleased by the souvenirs littering Ludeyville because he is finally able to assign them to his past. His efforts to clean the house represent his processing and disposal of demons. Resisting treatment, he seems determined to cure himself. This stands as an affirmation of his true mental stability.

Unharbored by resentment, he finally writes letters and sends them, assuming responsibility for his own words. Unlike before, Moses is communicating with those around him, putting his own thoughts to trial and not creating a separate reality in which to incubate his conscience. The letters he does not send do not need to be sent, as they would serve no purpose. Herzog realizes this; hence these letters are the last of their kind. Moses has taken charge of his life "within the void."

Will worries for Moses and Ramona, but Moses and the readers know better. Ramona has never demanded anything of Moses that she has not returned to him a hundredfold. Moses knows that Ramona is sane and in control enough to not require a caretaker. She will probably be able to offer to Moses the little caretaking he may still need.

Moses contacts his neighbors; he is asserting himself not only as a person but as a part of his environment. The house in Ludeyville might be interpreted as a reflection of Moses' own interior state through the course of the book: its decay and desolation have, like his, only now begun their remedy. There is hope in the fact that the book ends on Mrs. Tuttle washing dishes and Moses preparing dinner. It implies that the healing in Ludeyville shall continue until fruition.

And yet, despite the undeniable optimism of the novels' closing passages, what is perhaps most notable is Moses' decision not to write another letter - at least not in the near future. He withdraws as an author, and it is at that juncture that Bellow essentially does the same. Author and character are therefore linked; Herzog is Herzog. Bellow seems indeed skeptical of the power of words, surprisingly so even; a theme percolating through his novel is the inability of words to provide adequate communication between people, and to fully express the complexities of human life. It's a paradoxical contention, of course, since Bellow does intend, it would seem, to paint a complete portrait for us, albeit of a rather incomplete man. Insofar as that portrait can be read as in part autobiographical, it is significant that the narrative ends with the decision not to write - as if that were the happy resolution to life's problems.

The letters are tools of interiority; they provide a kind of running inner monologue; they are thoughts translated to paper. Stripped of them, Moses becomes unknowable, unwriteable, no longer a character. These concerns may seem exceedingly formalist, but it is worth considering the way in which Moses' narrative cannot continue, and cannot have an end. Resolution is a false narrative construct, pinned to a far more complex contemplation of the word and its role in society, in life, and in our minds. It is therefore appropriate that Herzog be considered philosophy as well as fiction.

• Biography of Saul Bellow
• About Herzog
• Character List
• Major Themes
• Glossary of Terms
• Short Summary
• Full Summary and Analysis
• Summary and Analysis of Section 1
• Summary and Analysis of Sections 2 and 3
• Summary and Analysis of Section 4
• Summary and Analysis of Section 5
• Summary and Analysis of Section 6
• Summary and Analysis of Sections 7 and 8
• Summary and Analysis of Section 9
• Related Links on Herzog
• Suggested Essay Questions
• Narrative Reliability: Insanity in Bellow's Novel
• Author of ClassicNote and Sources
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