In defense of savagery (or, the year in review)

Herzog. I realize I haven't talked about the novel yet, not having formed words or opinions into full thought, and I won't do that here. What I will say is that all the revile, pissery, joy, exhaustion related to Bellow's masterwork is justly earned. It's also a grand example of a constructed from the solitary perch of anger and partial savagery vacillating to sweet. In other words, art.