I can't say I enjoyed reading this book. I found it tedious to the bone and not particularly enlightening in any way. I was expecting to find some original interpretation of modern philosophers, like Nietzsche, for example, but the book seemed just an exercise in name dropping to show us what an intellectual Herzog was.
However, there was one element to the book that I found quite interesting and for which I have to give it some credit. The book is a heartfelt, detailed description of how a middle aged man deals with betrayal and disappointment in life and in relationships.
As we approach middle age, many of us realise that most of the people that are part of our psychological landscape have betrayed us or disappointed us in some way. It's hard to come to terms with this and Herzog does it his way.
His relationship with his child, I think, is what offers the book a more optimistic outlook on life. His love and care for her are clear from the start.
I think Herzog is just the author himself with some elements of fictionalisation. Like Herzog, I'm sure he must have been a right pain in the backside, but you can't deny him his humanity for this.
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