May’s read at the bookgroup was Rabbit, Run, by John Updike.
I am a simple human. I could not get past Rabbit’s juvenile run from responsibility and consequence of Rabbit to enjoy the novel. I know we’re supposed to accept Rabbit as authentic in his impulsive reactions to his instinct. But aren’t we to expect more? Society’s glue is our responsibilities to ourselves and one another – society’s glue is that we respect.
Updike’s writing is gorgeous – hurried, emotional, confused, densely allegorical without undue weight. The scene of Janice unable to care for her newborn startles – the reader stumbles with Janice in her drunken haze. His depiction of a dead American town and how men and women interact with one another unnerves as these themes feel timeless.
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