Pastor’s column references Updike

Dr. Fred Andrea, pastor of Aiken’s First Baptist Church, wrote a column on “Faith and Values: How far is away?” for the Aiken Standard in which he begins,

“John Updike’s novel, Rabbit, Run, centers on a man who cannot accept responsibility and, therefore, lives each day with the suffocating feeling of being trapped. Confronted with a decision or a demand, he runs away. When the novel concludes, he is still unable to cope. His marriage is in shambles, his family life is conflicted, his friends have all abandoned him. Miserable and frustrated, he still cannot decide what to do, and so avoids doing anything. The final scene is set on a summer evening and reads as follows:

“‘As he goes down the stairs, worries come as quick as the sound of his footsteps. Guilt and responsibility slide together like substantial shadows inside his chest. Outside in the air his fears coalesce. Afraid, really afraid, he remembers what once consoled him—and lifted his eyes to the unlit windows of a nearby church.’

“‘Rabbit comes to the curb, but instead of going to the right and around the block, he steps down with as big a feeling as if this little side street is a wide river – and runs. His hands lift of their own, and he feels the wind on his ears, even before his heels hitting the pavement at first, but with an effortless gathering, out of a kind of sweet panic, growing lighter and quieter and quicker, he runs. Ah, runs. RUNS!'”

Before shifting to talk about the Old Testament prophet Elijah, who also ran away, Andrea asks, “How many persons at this very hour are running away, trying to hide or to escape? Some do it in the name of liberation, believing they are free only when they have no limiting obligation or responsibilities. Others run away to avoid facing themselves, and some are running away from love and from God.”

Read the whole column.

TV show spotlights Updike’s ‘Pigeon Feathers’

The Silicon Valley period drama Halt and Catch Fire, an AMC original TV series about the computer revolution and the emergence of the Internet, recently aired its two-part Season 3 premiere, and Updike-savvy viewers will have recognized that the story Joe reads to Cameron in the episode “Signal to Noise” is none other than the frequently anthologized “Pigeon Feathers.”

It’s a double stroll down memory lane, as the show reminds viewers that when the World Wide Web first debuted, there were no graphic browsers at all, UPROXX reports.

“‘Halt And Catch Fire’ Takes Another Leap In Its Final Season Premiere”

Updike’s Witches named best book set in Rhode Island

When you see an article titled “The Best Books Based in Every State” at Travel + Leisure magazine, you expect John Updike to turn up as the choice for Pennsylvania. After all, two of the “Rabbit” novels won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. But this new article from Lydia Mansel names Jerry Spinell’s Maniac Magee as the best book from the Keystone State: “Jeffrey Lionel ‘Maniac’ Magee is now an orphan and looking for a home in a town in Pennsylvania, a town based on the author’s childhood home in Norristown. He’s also a local legend, thanks to his athleticism and courage.”

Updike still turns up on the list, though, as author of the best book set in Rhode Island:  The Witches of Eastwick. “In a quaint coastal town in Rhode Island there are three witches—Alexandra, Jane, and Sukie—who developed powers after losing their husbands to death or divorce. Soon, Darryl Van Horne moves in, and all kinds of chaos ensue. Seduction, humor, and revenge reign in John Updike’s magical little town of Eastwick.”

Al-Ustath publishes Islamist critique-analysis of Updike’s ‘Terrorist’

The refereed academic journal Al-Ustath, sponsored by the University of Baghdad, recently published an “Islamist Critique of American Society: An Analysis of John Updike’s Terrorist and Mohsin Hamid’s Reluctant Fundamentalist, by Assistant Professor Azhar Hameed and Assistant Lecturer Afrah And Al-Jabbar.

Abstract:
In this paper, I will show how the American writer John Updike (1932-2009) and the Pakistani writer Mohsin Hamid (1971- ) criticize the American society. They push their readers to think hard about America’s culture and place in the world. They both encourage the readers to a more extensive understanding of terrorism in the post–9/11 era , and they refuse to put all the blame on the shoulders of the terrorists. They narrate the justifications for terror in ways that invite, if not sympathy, then understanding. In this paper, I will demonstrate how both Hamid and Updike allow for a broader, and more troubling understanding of Islamic terrorism in a time when every attempt to know how the terrorist thinks and lives was considered abomination. They argue that understanding the motivations and causes of terrorism helps to frame a comprehensive counterterrorism strategy. I have made a selection of two novels by those two culturally different writers and emphasized their similar attack of the American society.

A full-text PDF of the article is available through the link above.

New scholarly work considers the pursuit of paradise in Updike’s work

The 2016 (Vol. 13:3) issue of CS Canada’s Studies in Literature and Language features an essay on Updike by Quingzheng Liu, “Paradise Pursuit in John Updike’s Works.” 

Abstract: 
“In the “Rabbit” series and The Centaur, the disappearance of human ideal world and unpleasant work and daily life are revealed from different angles by the author Updike, in which their protagonists have been always pursuing an ideal, in order to get rid of the mediocrity and depression in their daily life. In this paper, the author discusses the thoughts and feelings towards the pursuit of human paradise.”

The Rabbit tetralogy and addiction treatment

In an opening editorial for DIONYSOS: The literature and intoxication triquarterly Vol. 2:3 (Winter 1991), an issue now available online, Roger Forseth writes,

“Indeed, it was only a matter of time before journalism moved into fiction proper, and it is a pleasure to report that John Updike has found room in Rabbit at Rest (New York: Knopf, 1990) for his own version of the culture of addiction treatment. Harry ‘Rabbit’ Angstrom’s son Nelson, a ‘self-centered jerk’ (to use Ms. Vigilante’s term) if there ever was one, after snorting his mother’s inheritance, escapes gratefully into a Philadelphia treatment clinic. The reader is then treated to the high comedy of Nelson’s attempt to ‘share’ his recovery with his father.

“Updike’s account is pure Rabbit: “‘A day at a time,’ Nelson recites, ‘with help of a higher power. Once you accept that help, Dad, it’s amazing how nothing gets you down. All these years, I think I’ve been seriously depressed; everything seemed too much. Now I just put it all in God’s hands, roll over, and go to sleep. You have to keep up the program, of course. . . . I love counselling.’ He turns to his mother and smiles. ‘I love it, and it loves me.’ Harry asks him, ‘These druggy kids you deal with, they all black?’ . . . [Janice says] ‘I think for now, Harry. Let’s give Nelson the space. He’s trying so hard.’ ‘He’s full of AA bullshit'” (407-08).

“Harry Angstrom did not major in sensitivity, but Updike, through his creation of a redneck Childe Harold, is able to achieve in fiction a reality that the journalists can’t touch. — RF

Are we ‘Slouching toward Mar-a-Lago’?

Trump voters have spawned a number of comparisons and considerations to Rabbit and the real rural Pennsylvanians that helped put Trump in the White House. The latest comes from Andrew J. Bacevich, whose “Slouching Toward Mar-a-Lago: The Post-Cold-War Consensus Collapses” was recently published by The Unz Review: An Alternative Media Selection.

“Emotion-laden upheavals producing behavior that is not entirely rational are hardly unknown in the American experience,” Bacevich writes. “Indeed, they recur with some frequency. The Great Awakenings of the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries are examples of the phenomenon. So also are the two Red Scares of the twentieth century, the first in the early 1920s and the second, commonly known as ‘McCarthyism,’ coinciding with the onset of the Cold War.

“Yet the response to Donald Trump’s election, combining as it has fear, anger, bewilderment, disgust, and something akin to despair, qualifies as an upheaval without precedent. History itself had seemingly gone off the rails. The crude Andrew Jackson’s 1828 ousting of an impeccably pedigreed president, John Quincy Adams, was nothing compared to the vulgar Donald Trump’s defeat of an impeccably credentialed graduate of Wellesley and Yale who had served as first lady, United States senator, and secretary of state. . . . A vulgar, bombastic, thrice-married real-estate tycoon and reality TV host as prophet, moral philosopher, style-setter, interpreter of the prevailing zeitgeist, and chief celebrity? The very idea seemed both absurd and intolerable. . . .

“Not all, but many of Trump’s supporters voted for him for the same reason that people buy lottery tickets: Why not? In their estimation, they had little to lose. Their loathing of the status quo is such that they may well stick with Trump even as it becomes increasingly obvious that his promise of salvation—an America made ‘great again’—is not going to materialize.

“Yet those who imagine that Trump’s removal will put things right are likewise deluding themselves. To persist in thinking that he defines the problem is to commit an error of the first order. Trump is not cause, but consequence. . . .

Continue reading

Blogger writes about Shaw, Updike, and Trump

Under the header “Statistical Modeling, Causal Inference, and Social Science” blogger Andrew Gelman (andrewgelman.com) posted a think piece on “Irwin Shaw, John Updike, and Donald Trump” that begins with the writer’s admission that he read both the Shaw and Updike biographies (by Michael Shnyayerson and Adam Begley, respectively) and a lamentation that “very few people actually read” the latter.

“John Updike was a master of the slice of life and also created one very memorable character in Rabbit. . . . One thing Shaw did have was a combination of emotional sympathy, real-world grit, and social observation. . . .

“Updike and Shaw had different career trajectories. Updike started at the top and stayed here. Shaw started at the top and worked his way down. . . . From my perspective, Updike redeemed himself by writing a lot of excellent literary journalism. As they got older, both Updike and Shaw reduced their output of short stories, maintaining the high quality in both cases.

“Speaking of John Updike, if he were around today I expect he’d’ve had something to say about those rural Pennsylvanians who voted for Donald Trump. Being a rural Pennsylvanian. And John O’Hara, as a Pennsylvanian, and Roman Catholic, and an all-around resentful person: he wouldn’t had something to say about Trump voters from all those groups. . . .”

 

Orioles announcer considers Updike’s Maples Stories

John Updike was a writer who enjoyed both critical and popular success, and the range of people his writing “spoke to” is great.

Witness the latest ruminations on on Updike’s The Maples Stories, a fictional account of his first marriage, which come from Gary Thorne, the play-by-play announcer for baseball’s Baltimore Orioles.

His takeaway? “So the end does not define the marriage, the millions of moments do. Those moments are what Updike brings to life in each of these stories.

“Since they are in sequence, we see the lives of the Maples as it happened—all those mundane moments that perhaps were not so mundane after all.

“Updike, like the moments, writes in a reality we easily understand and feel. The exceptional growth of his writing abilities is seen since the sequence of stories is not only true for the marriage years, but for his writing as well.”

“Hitting the Books with Gary Thorne: The Maples Stories

 

Golf quotes? Look to Rabbit Angstrom

Signature: Making well-read sense of the world, recently published a piece by Tom Blunt on “10 Great Golf Quotes, the Perfect Sport for an Uneasy Nation.” 

Not surprisingly, Updike made the list . . . though it could be considered a surprise that the quote comes not from Updike’s Golf Dreams, but from his alter ego, Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom.

Great as the author says these quotes are, they still “strive—and mostly fail—to capture the angst pleasure of a sport that golf pro Gary Player once described as ‘a puzzle without an answer.'”

Here’s the Updike entry:

John Updike, Rabbit at Rest, 1990
“TV families and your own are hard to tell apart, except yours isn’t interrupted every six minutes by commercials and theirs don’t get bogged down into nothingness, a state where nothing happens, no skit, no zany visitors, no outburst on the laugh track, nothing at all but boredom and a lost feeling, especially when you get up in the morning and the moon is still shining and men are making noisy bets on the first tee.”

The funniest cited is from George W. Bush, who was talking to reporters on August 2002:

“I call upon all nations to do everything they can to stop these terrorist killers. Thank you. Now watch this drive.”

But H.G. Wells isn’t far behind:  “The uglier a man’s legs are, the better he plays golf. It’s almost a law.”