Another Updike thesis comes out of India

On August 20, 2014 another thesis on John Updike was listed on Shodh ganga: a reservoir of Indian theses. The 274-page thesis, in English, came out of Aligarh Muslim University in Uttar Pradesh. The researcher-author, Tehreem Zehra, wrote about the “Idea of America in select novels of John Updike.”

Abstract:
A literature which emerged out of the roots of wilderness managed to wipe out the stain of plagiarism whenever accused by the already rich and mature European typewriters outpourings and has always been ready to reform itself through the oeuvre of distinguished writers of the nation in every literary era. What Hawthorne did for American Puritanism was further carried out by Updike in his literary career through 20th century America. Beginning with Rabbit series which make up the backbone of his literary outburst he seldom eulogises the American spirit of adultery selfishness capitalism consumerism and wavering faith. He puts his heart and soul to reform the deteriorating self and values of his nation.

 

Full text of Centaur and existentialism article online

Oxford Journals subscribers can download the full text of an article on “An Existentialist Ars Moriendi: Death and Sacrifice in John Updike’s The Centaur,” which was first published in the August 12, 2014 issue of Literature and Theology.

Here’s the link, and the abstract:

“An Existentialist Ars Moriendi: Death and Sacrifice in John Updike’s The Centaur
Michial Farmer, Assistant Professor of English, Crown College, St. Bonifacius, MN; michialfarmer@gmail.com

John Updike originally conceived his 1963 novel The Centaur as a companion piece to Rabbit, Run, published two years before. If the earlier novel was about a life-embracing man constitutionally unable to sacrifice himself for any person or idea, the later one is its opposite: a novel about a man obsessed with his own death who is nevertheless able to sacrifice himself for the betterment of his family. He thus exchanges his literal, physical death for a series of smaller, spiritual, daily deaths—the deaths of his dreams, his ambitions, everything but his love for his wife and son. What Updike is attempting in this novel, I will argue, is a 20th-century Ars Moriendi—an art of holy dying wherein George Caldwell will model a Christian attitude towards death and sacrifice. But Updike’s faith is always mixed with doubt, and thus his updated Ars Moriendi belongs firmly to the existentialist tradition wherein the black hole of death creates an inescapable anxiety. Updike implicitly adopts Martin Heidegger’s notion of Sein-zum-Tode (being-towards-death); to live authentically is to remember at all times that death is awaiting you. But, typically for Updike’s fiction, The Centaur charts a middle way: If Updike cannot resign himself to death with the calmness suggested by medieval Christianity, neither can he subscribe to Heidegger’s atheism. Caldwell’s daily sacrifices become a Christian response to this anxiety; by sacrificing himself every day, he prepares himself for the physical death that awaits him.

 

 

Australian e-journal publishes opinion on Updike

ON LINE opinion, Australia’s e-journal of social and political debate, today published a piece on “Updike!”by Peter Sellick, who begins by saying that Updike’s death “precipitated a dilemma” in his household because for so many years his wife would buy him the latest Updike book for Christmas. But he quickly turns to observation, some of it based on his rereading of the LOA short stories and the Begley bio:

“Updike served up his immediate experience; all was grist for his mill. So much so that after telling his children that he was leaving the family of his first marriage, a painful episode for all, he published, soon after, an episode in the Maple stories, ‘Separating’ that was drawn with little disguise from the event. One wonders at the facility of a writer who could do such painful things to his family and then serve it all up in a short story to the New Yorker for a fairly large amount of money. One wonders about his facility for detachment! For Updike all of experience was fodder for his literature. He could be called the Vermeer (one of Updike’s favorite artists) of American letters, so intent was he on the gravity and beauty of the everyday. The glory of the small town of Shillington where he grew up was often celebrated in his short stories as if it were the centre of the universe.”   Continue reading

Raghupati Bhatt on John Updike’s Indian Connection

Raghupati Bhatt’s essay on “John Updike’s Indian Connection” appeared in Vol. 4, No. 7 (July 2014) of The International Journal of Scientific and Research Publications. In writing about S., Bhatt concludes, “It becomes very clear after reading the novel that the author has made a careful study of some books on Yoga and oriental mythology.”

“And what follows is fit to be in any porno book. It is not meant to. The description is fitting to the part of the story. Updike goes on giving such things because his themes are related to them. Why does S give description? She and through her Updike wants to point out the difference between her past and present.

“The difference between her husband’s lovemaking and Arhat’s is that Arhat’s Lovemaking makes him an equal partner. His is a religious affair. His constant talking and quoting Sanskrit texts gives her a sense of satisfaction calling her his eternal shakti gives her a feeling of elevation. Her husband loved her as his wife but Arhat loved her as ‘Vishesha Rati’ or as an extraordinary female.'”

Here is the full text.

Blogger is heavy into Updike after reading Begley’s bio

Yesterday a blogger responded to Heather Havrilesky’s New York Times Magazine piece on “794 Ways in Which BuzzFeed Reminds us of Impending Death” on PottedReads, “a blog about reading and writing.”

He begins, “Having rediscovered John Updike, never having deeply read his work, until now, my late middle age, after reading Adam Begley’s new biography, Updike, I don’t seem to be able to get enough of reading his work. I can’t say for certain why. Maybe it’s the way Begley wrote Updike by braiding his work with his life that made me interested in reading him again. Maybe because Updike was a writer, first and foremost, something I’ve always wanted, which must have made his loved ones suffer. My curiosity was renewed. Updike wrote about his experience without hardly any boundaries between his life and his fiction. That’s quite a feat that some think was a trick of style, and not art, which it truly is. It also occurred to me that I wasn’t ready to read Updike until now. I probably avoided him not unlike I avoid myself by usually doing what I have to do without doing what I need to do. Updike’s not a  chore, but a pleasure with a price, not unlike most good things. Yes, he created a crisis of confidence that’s anxious and distracting by making us focus on what’s important. Not pleasing others at the expense of ourselves, knowing the difference between fantasy and reality, and moving forward accordingly.”

He adds, “The beauty of Havrilesky’s essay lies not only in making me understand BuzzFeed, using Updike to do it, but by incorporating Updike’s fiction into herself so that she could tell us about how they’re connected and why. By writing this essay she made Updike hers, and translated her appreciation of his work to mine. I can’t tell where Updike finished, and Havrilesky starts. I envy her that feat. It’s Eucharistic, and what reading’s all about. Changing you from leading an everyday life into a liturgical one.

“Updike knew that about reading, and writing. That’s why he could write hard about his life. If he wrote soft, his fiction would be faithless. Instead, it’s not. Updike’s stories and novels are a modern-day spiritual reckoning. His readers don’t know where his life ends and his fiction begins. It’s intimidating because he writes so well, and painful because it’s true. It takes a mature personality to understand what Updike’s saying in such a unifying way, that you want to deny it, dismiss him, and turn away. If we don’t like it then that’s tough, and probably another reason why some critics have mistakenly judged Updike as a self-absorbed show off. He’s not. Updike aimed for transubstantiation . . . His mystery isn’t that he could turn bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ, but that he could turn our everyday lives into invincible prose, that we could own for ourselves.”

Read the full article, “Oh, what a feeling, Toyota!”

Blogger cites Updike’s small, razor-sharp truths

The blog Short Story Magic Tricks is dedicated to helping would-be writers learn “tricks” from established writers. By the site’s own description, “At Short Story Magic Tricks we attempt to break down and analyze what we like about each story. . . . To that end, each post will highlight a different short story, featuring a favorite magic trick employed by its author.”

The featured Updike short story posted thus far is “Here Come the Maples,” and the “magic trick” is Updike’s capacity for “filling the story with small, razor-sharp truths.”

“In the hands of a lesser writer, this story could fall apart as a maudlin diary entry. But Updike sprinkles in all these little moments that make the reader feel the feelings of the protagonist. These details are so spot-on, the reader can’t help but relate and say, ‘Oh, yes, that’s it exactly. That’s how it was for me once too.’ The story is no longer a thinly veiled Updike autobiography; it stands in for the reader’s own personal history as well. And that’s quite a trick on Updike’s part.”

Read the full entry: “‘Here Come The Maples’ by John Updike”

NY Times Magazine essayist invokes Updike

Screen Shot 2014-07-06 at 9.50.10 AMIn an essay titled “794 Ways in Which BuzzFeed Reminds Us of Impending Death” (NY Times Magazine, July 3, 2014), Heather Havrilesky invoked John Updike:

“The next summer, after a long year spent adjusting to life without my dad in the house, I happened to pick up John Updike’s ‘Rabbit Is Rich.’ Perhaps given the timing, it was the first novel that felt real and relatable to me, like a ticket straight into the bloodstream of another human being. And no wonder — Updike knew exactly how the intrusions of pop-culture minutiae had the power to evoke the cheery dread of Middle America.   Continue reading

Blogger contemplates John Updike’s Secular Vision

The New Yorker & Me, a blog by a man who calls himself Capedrifter, yesterday posted an entry titled “John Updike’s Secular Vision (Contra Christian Lorentzen),” in which he challenges Lorentz’s characterization of Updike’s art criticism.

“John Updike’s art essays are among the glories of modern literature,” he writes, noting that “Updike’s moments of art religiosity seem to have been most intense when he visited MoMA.”

But he adds, “To say, as Lorentzen says, that Updike ‘never tired of writing about painting and sculpture in religious terms’ is a shade misleading. Only in ‘What MoMA Done Tole Me’ and ‘Invisible Cathedral’ did he do so expressly. Perhaps he sublimated his religious feeling towards art in his other pieces. That may account, in part, for their greatness. But Updike’s sensual apprehension of life (‘Flesh is delicious,’ he says, eyeing Lucas Cranach’s Eve) is also a key ingredient of his criticism—one that’s totally secular.”

Updike and Lorraine Adams considered by international scholars

The American International Journal of Contemporary Research (Vol. 4, No 3; March 2014) recently published a paper on John Updike and Lorraine Adams written by three international scholars.

“Islamophobic Irony in American Fiction: a Critical Analysis of Lorraine Adams’ Harbor and John Updike’s Terrorist was written by Riyad Abdurahman Manqoush (Asst. Prof. of English Literature, Hadhramout University, Yemen), Noraini Md. Yusof (Assoc. Prof. of English Literature, National University of Malaysia), and Ruzy Suliza Hashim (Prof. of English Literature, National University of Malaysia).

Microsoft Word – 9.doc

Abstract
In this paper, we intend to examine two contemporary American novels, Lorraine Adams’ Harbor (2004) and John Updike’s Terrorist (2006) with the aim of investigating the Islamophobic irony in their descriptions of characters, views and incidents that are relevant to the Middle East. Our analysis of these novels is framed based on the modes of irony as discussed by Edwin Barton, Glenda Hudson, Claire Colebrook, Ellen O’Gorman, J. Jorgensen, Herbert Colston, Henry Conserva, Ross Murfin and Supriyia Ray. Through our discussions of the employment of verbal irony, situational irony and dramatic irony, we conclude that the two writers make fun of the Muslim fanatics who view the wearer of hijab as a good Muslim. They also imply that the Muslim worldview is one-dimensional. In addition to that, they criticise the US employment of Muslim minorities in places which require high security because the loyalty of these workers, according to those authors, are questionable. In the same vein, they ridicule the voices that relate all the problems of the Middle East to the USA. In general, the different types of irony uncover the Islamophobic traits that pervade the two novels.

Here’s a link to the entire paper.

 

Thesis: The Cultural Consciousness of John Updike

More and more scholarship is making its way online, and another thesis on Updike has come to our attention:  “The Cultural Consciousness of John Updike: Rhetorical Spaces as Representations of Americana through the ‘Rabbit’ Series,” by Michael Bonifacio (Governors State University, Spring 2012).

Abstract
This thesis is a scholarly examination of John Updike’s first two novels of the Rabbit saga: Rabbit, Run and Rabbit Redux. The discussion is centered on the cultural artifacts and geographic spaces that populate the novels and how they are a reflection of popular cultural and contemporary sociological, economic, and political climates. These items are also closely considered with respect to their rhetorical significance and how Updike makes use of rhetorical spaces to influence his readers. What may seem like ordinary places are, through Updike’s writing, imbued with rhetorical significance that sheds light on his contemporary culture and that of his readers. Updike’s writing over the span of two decades readers provides readers an opportunity to experience culture of two important but seemingly antipodal decades: the 1950s and 60s. Furthermore, by choosing characters that reflect “Middle America” for the first novel and by then integrating characters from the fringes of society in the second novel, Updike shows that he is keenly aware of his changing society.

Here’s a link to download the entire thesis.