updike is fantastic. it doesn't matter that i haven't read the rabbit books that take place when harry is my age, i probably identify more with the old rabbit anyway. besides, so much of why i find updike great is based on his pinpoint descriptions of everyday nothing. the everyday nothing harry faces as an old man is closer to my everyday nothing based on the time period alone. but, it's not just the way he captures the empty nothing of modern life; he consistently drops insight that contains more in five words than i can communicate in an hour. or at other times simply strings words and thoughts together in ways that link directly to my experience.
"...with that exaggerated, creaking stealth of small children..."
"he closes his eyes... and in the intimate red of his brain envisions..."
"how suggestive female flesh is."
"the stark plummy stars press down and the depth of the galactic void for an instant makes him feel suspended upside down."
in any case, i'm basically just advertising for updike. those were lines from maybe ten pages i've read over the last while. more treasure awaits. avast, me hearties! set sail for his books. pathetic.
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