elpanek's review against another edition
4.0
There are different types of injustice in the world. There are times when those who commit wrongdoing are never punished, and times when those who don’t commit wrongdoing are wrongfully punished. These are the headline-grabbers. More common are the times when those who surround individuals who commit wrongdoing – the husbands, wives, children, and parents – suffer along with the wrongdoer.
This is the moral framework of Rabbit, Run, the story of a selfish, irresponsible young man who, unable to bear the tedium and frustration of a lackluster marriage, leaves his wife and child and casts himself into an unglamorous unknown. What could have been an indulgent, middle-aged-man-in-crisis novel is elevated by Updike’s facility with language, his keen sense of psychological motivation, and a willingness to center his story around an unsympathetic character who isn’t easily redeemed.
What’s more, Rabbit, the protagonist, is not middle-aged. He’s old enough to harbor nostalgia for the personal triumphs of his youth, but young enough to possess an indeterminate future. And this is the source of suspense that drives the narrative: when will he stop running from his troubles? He suffers for his sins and is capable of reflection, and so he earns our sympathy, only to squander it with another rash remark or worse.
What makes the book worth reading, long after its post-war/pre-psychedelic epoch has drawn to a close, is its unwillingness to reduce Rabbit’s run to a simple picaresque or parable. We root for the character’s comeuppance, but when it comes, it refuses to satisfy us with anything resembling fairness. It’s an emotionally difficult book, but one that is likely to get you thinking and talking about the runners in your own life.
This is not to say that there aren’t pleasures for the reader along the way. Among my favorite passages is Updike’s ornate description of ‘the propulsive power of a wrong’: ‘the mind batters against it and each futile blow sucks the air emptier until it seems the whole frame of blood and bone must burst in a universe that can be such a vacuum’ (p. 160). That kind of articulation of a familiar internal state is why I read fiction: to see inside, to slow things down. In the end, I’m not sure I want to spend another three novels with the protagonist, but if only for the sheer enjoyment of reading Updike’s descriptions, I’d recommend giving this one a try.
This is the moral framework of Rabbit, Run, the story of a selfish, irresponsible young man who, unable to bear the tedium and frustration of a lackluster marriage, leaves his wife and child and casts himself into an unglamorous unknown. What could have been an indulgent, middle-aged-man-in-crisis novel is elevated by Updike’s facility with language, his keen sense of psychological motivation, and a willingness to center his story around an unsympathetic character who isn’t easily redeemed.
What’s more, Rabbit, the protagonist, is not middle-aged. He’s old enough to harbor nostalgia for the personal triumphs of his youth, but young enough to possess an indeterminate future. And this is the source of suspense that drives the narrative: when will he stop running from his troubles? He suffers for his sins and is capable of reflection, and so he earns our sympathy, only to squander it with another rash remark or worse.
What makes the book worth reading, long after its post-war/pre-psychedelic epoch has drawn to a close, is its unwillingness to reduce Rabbit’s run to a simple picaresque or parable. We root for the character’s comeuppance, but when it comes, it refuses to satisfy us with anything resembling fairness. It’s an emotionally difficult book, but one that is likely to get you thinking and talking about the runners in your own life.
This is not to say that there aren’t pleasures for the reader along the way. Among my favorite passages is Updike’s ornate description of ‘the propulsive power of a wrong’: ‘the mind batters against it and each futile blow sucks the air emptier until it seems the whole frame of blood and bone must burst in a universe that can be such a vacuum’ (p. 160). That kind of articulation of a familiar internal state is why I read fiction: to see inside, to slow things down. In the end, I’m not sure I want to spend another three novels with the protagonist, but if only for the sheer enjoyment of reading Updike’s descriptions, I’d recommend giving this one a try.
imrath's review against another edition
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
Content Warnings
Graphic: Child death, Emotional abuse, Infidelity, Alcoholism, Grief, Pregnancy, and Sexual assault
waxingquixotic's review against another edition
5.0
This is the best book I've read this year. Period. Maybe last year, too. Maybe. I don't know. But this book is amazing. I just looked up synonyms for "amazing", and all of them are adjectives you can use to describe this book.
Man, John Updike just has this way of making the most mundane, ordinary stuff extraordinary. He takes pages and pages to set a scene or describe the inner thoughts of one of his main characters, and all of it is awesome. I mean there were paragraphs that went on for pages to depict every single aspect of a scene, and I ate it all up like a beautifully crafted Caesar salad before the filet and baked potato arrived. That steakhouse analogy seems appropriate because this is like the Ruth's Chris of literature. There is so much more I want to do with this illustration, but I'm gonna stop myself and move on.
When I consider the plot of this story and imagine myself describing it to someone, it doesn't feel like an easy sell at all. I mean, here I am giving it five stars, and I feel like breaking down the story for someone will make them think I'm crazy. Like, "Alright, alright, check this out. This guy, Rabbit, yeah, not his real name. Long story. Anyway, dude has this wife and a kid and stuff and he has this boring job and then one day he just decides to run away from it all. It's crazy. And, man, I don't wanna run it for you, but he makes these crazy decisions and gets himself in some wild situations and I'll be damned if it really is just a whole awful, sad mess of a story, but it's awesome, man. It's so awesome. Sometimes nothing happens for a long time, but the writing is so good that you don't even really care. The characters are complex, too, and all developed and stuff and you just get lost in the story every time you pick the book up again. It's classic contemporary American literature or something. I don't know."
And that's how I would describe the book. Just like that. Because that's how I talk in real life when I'm not reviewing books on the internet.
I can't recommend this book enough. I've got some Roth and Bellow waiting now. Look at me getting all well rounded and cultured all of a sudden. Maybe I'll start writing serious reviews like I'm writing for The NY Times or something. Bigger adjectives and more pretentiousness and whatever. Start talking about existentialism and symbolism and the human condition. Maybe I'll turn a corner.
Nope.
Man, John Updike just has this way of making the most mundane, ordinary stuff extraordinary. He takes pages and pages to set a scene or describe the inner thoughts of one of his main characters, and all of it is awesome. I mean there were paragraphs that went on for pages to depict every single aspect of a scene, and I ate it all up like a beautifully crafted Caesar salad before the filet and baked potato arrived. That steakhouse analogy seems appropriate because this is like the Ruth's Chris of literature. There is so much more I want to do with this illustration, but I'm gonna stop myself and move on.
When I consider the plot of this story and imagine myself describing it to someone, it doesn't feel like an easy sell at all. I mean, here I am giving it five stars, and I feel like breaking down the story for someone will make them think I'm crazy. Like, "Alright, alright, check this out. This guy, Rabbit, yeah, not his real name. Long story. Anyway, dude has this wife and a kid and stuff and he has this boring job and then one day he just decides to run away from it all. It's crazy. And, man, I don't wanna run it for you, but he makes these crazy decisions and gets himself in some wild situations and I'll be damned if it really is just a whole awful, sad mess of a story, but it's awesome, man. It's so awesome. Sometimes nothing happens for a long time, but the writing is so good that you don't even really care. The characters are complex, too, and all developed and stuff and you just get lost in the story every time you pick the book up again. It's classic contemporary American literature or something. I don't know."
And that's how I would describe the book. Just like that. Because that's how I talk in real life when I'm not reviewing books on the internet.
I can't recommend this book enough. I've got some Roth and Bellow waiting now. Look at me getting all well rounded and cultured all of a sudden. Maybe I'll start writing serious reviews like I'm writing for The NY Times or something. Bigger adjectives and more pretentiousness and whatever. Start talking about existentialism and symbolism and the human condition. Maybe I'll turn a corner.
Nope.
roe_'s review against another edition
Cursed with the inability to finish books recently... the prose was nice but something just kept making me put this one down. I guess I'm just not in the mood for something so slow-paced, and I was quickly getting fed up with Rabbit
mistercrow's review against another edition
1.0
So before I go on; yes I understand this is meant to be in the 50's and this is how people's opinions are. Yes, I also understand the literary importance of this book. I think it was beautifully and well written in first-person.
Why don't I like it? Because I picked this up being intrigued by the description of the book; sorta being stuck in life, etc. Anyways, long story short, I ended up hating the main character (Rabbit/Harry), he is pretty much your fedora-wearing type of guy who hates on women and somehow expect ALL women to have sex with him; that's his 'entitlement' (bleech).
Secondly, all the women were poorly written. Most of them, if not all, were feeble, weak, and needed a man to 'sort them out', or they were all begging for sex.
In the end, I felt like I wasted my time reading this garbage.
Why don't I like it? Because I picked this up being intrigued by the description of the book; sorta being stuck in life, etc. Anyways, long story short, I ended up hating the main character (Rabbit/Harry), he is pretty much your fedora-wearing type of guy who hates on women and somehow expect ALL women to have sex with him; that's his 'entitlement' (bleech).
Secondly, all the women were poorly written. Most of them, if not all, were feeble, weak, and needed a man to 'sort them out', or they were all begging for sex.
In the end, I felt like I wasted my time reading this garbage.
doughnuts1's review against another edition
3.0
Beautifully written, but disturbing to read.
I don't know if John Updike was trying to criticize the rigidness of the 1950s, but the main character, Harry (aka Rabbit), is such a disgusting human being. At times I couldn't even continue to read about Harry because he is sexist, selfish, and a pig. Is he supposed to represent all men at that time who feel trapped and confused about life? If he is, that's disgusting.
However, I did find it interesting that his quest toward understanding the meaning of life had consequences. I think Harry's consequences and lack of ability to handle them is what makes the book more complex and compelling.
I don't know if John Updike was trying to criticize the rigidness of the 1950s, but the main character, Harry (aka Rabbit), is such a disgusting human being. At times I couldn't even continue to read about Harry because he is sexist, selfish, and a pig. Is he supposed to represent all men at that time who feel trapped and confused about life? If he is, that's disgusting.
However, I did find it interesting that his quest toward understanding the meaning of life had consequences. I think Harry's consequences and lack of ability to handle them is what makes the book more complex and compelling.
phantomvirus's review against another edition
4.0
a really disturbing portrait of american masculinity (entitlement, delusion, grandeur, incompetence)
joegisondi's review against another edition
3.0
This book is uneven to say the least. There are moments of beauty and then moments of pure confusion. He has moments that are poetic and then stylistic run-ons followed by short haunting sentences. Points of view changes without real purpose and the ending seems unrealistic. I expected more honesty and while there are moments in there of true honesty, mostly from the women, there isn’t anything profound or even deep. All and all, eh.
sygoldst's review against another edition
emotional
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0