The Sleepwalkers by Hermann Broch — Summary & Review

Imagine watching a society unravel from the inside, not with fireworks or shouting, but with quiet, creeping confusion. That’s the heart of Hermann Broch’s “The Sleepwalkers,” a novel that refuses to play by the usual rules. It’s not a thriller, not a romance, and certainly not a feel-good saga. Instead, it’s a deep dive into how values — the ones we think are fixed and solid — slowly dissolve, leaving people adrift. Broch sets this around the turn of the 20th century, focusing on German society’s slide into chaos before World War I. But don’t let the historical setting fool you; the questions it raises about meaning, identity, and moral collapse still bite today.

The novel is split into three parts, each with a different protagonist and style, mirroring the changing times and the breakdown of old certainties. First, there’s Joachim von Pasenow, a young Prussian officer in 1888 who’s the embodiment of romantic idealism. He’s caught between duty, love, and his own confused sense of self. Joachim’s world is still ordered, ruled by tradition and clear roles, but cracks are already showing. His struggles aren’t just personal; they symbolize a society clinging to outdated ideals that no longer hold water.

Fast forward to 1903, and we meet August Esch, a Luxembourger bookkeeper with anarchist leanings. August is restless, disillusioned, and searching for freedom in a world that’s tightening its grip. His story is more chaotic, more raw, reflecting the social unrest bubbling beneath the surface. He’s a man trying to break free from constraints but ultimately trapped by forces bigger than himself. His fate is tragic, underscoring how the desire to rebel can be crushed by the very system it challenges.

The last section jumps to 1918 with Huguenau, an Alsatian wine dealer who’s all about pragmatism and survival. Forget ideals—he’s focused on making it through the wreckage of war and societal collapse. His approach is cold and calculating, highlighting a world where moral commitments have faded, replaced by self-interest and opportunism. Huguenau’s story is fragmented, mixing prose with philosophical musings, mirroring the shattered reality around him.

Broch’s style evolves with each part, which can be a bit of a rollercoaster. The first part feels like classic 19th-century realism, almost gentle in its detail. The second gets more expressionistic, capturing the unrest and confusion of the era. By the third, the narrative fractures, blending poetry and philosophy in a way that’s challenging but fitting for the story’s themes. It’s a bold move that might frustrate readers expecting a straightforward plot but rewards those willing to engage with the novel’s deeper questions.

At its core, “The Sleepwalkers” is about the disintegration of values—how people can drift through life like somnambulists, unaware or unwilling to confront the collapse around them. Broch uses his characters not just as individuals but as symbols of broader societal shifts: the romantic clinging to old certainties, the anarchist challenging the system but caught in its trap, and the realist who survives by abandoning ideals altogether.

The atmosphere is bleak but never dull. There’s a sense of apocalypse not through spectacle but through subtle decay—relationships unravel, social orders crumble, and individuals lose their bearings. Broch’s philosophical reflections weave through the narrative, inviting readers to ponder history’s patterns and the human cost of losing a shared moral compass.

This isn’t a novel for a quick read or a casual afternoon. It demands patience and a taste for complexity. But for those willing to stick with it, it offers a powerful, if unsettling, mirror to our own times. After all, aren’t we all sleepwalkers in some way, fumbling through a world that feels increasingly unmoored?