| | | | God, I'm sad that there will never be any more Rabbit ~ not even memories of Rabbit from his children. I have read all the Rabbit volumes ~ four novels and a novella ~ at least twice each. They immerse you in half a century of American history, one man's life and afterlife. They explore gigantic, epic themes through minute, often tawdry everyday details; everyday details made fresh and strange through language that, as I remember it, seemed both painstaking and effortless. I don't know much about Updike the man. I have read perhaps half a dozen to ten of his other novels, and enjoyed the ones that examine his pet themes of families, couples and adultery, but not the attempts at comedy; I have read Nicholson Baker's celebration of Updike, in which he didn't allow himself to check the primary texts, and relied only on his memory of Updike's turns of phrase. I don't really know much about Updike. But I feel I know Harry Rabbit Angstrom and his world, and God I am sad at the thought of Rabbit's utterly final passing now, sadder than I was when the character actually died. |
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