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A review by wilsonkayla
The Witches of Eastwick by John Updike
2.0
The Witches of Eastwick centers on three divorced witches in a small coastal Rhode Island town who are drawn to a coarse, obnoxious man who buys a historic house in town. There is a loose plot, but it hardly matters.
I’ve seen the movie Witches of Eastwick more times than I can count. It is a fantastic movie. It is sexy, funny, and weird. The book it is based on is none of those things. Such an extremely disappointing reading experience. The novel is mostly boring. This could have been a compelling novella, were it 400 pages shorter. Possibly.
Men writing from the perspective of women is (to me!) often exhausting, infuriating, tedious, and sometimes hilarious. It seems like Updike has never spoken to a woman at length, but has read a lot of 80s Cosmo magazines. I’ve been a woman for quite some time and know several many women and I don’t think any woman has ever thought the thoughts Updike wrote for the female characters in this book. It is truly wild. Did you know any woman over 30 is essentially washed up? Jesus. The way a woman of only 38 is described is…sorry to say wild again, but it is wild! Also…listen, motherhood is different for everyone, but it is difficult for me to imagine three friends, who are all mothers, just…not giving a shit about their kids and having like zero guilt. I think Witches of Eastwick is supposed to be feminist and it just truly isn’t.
There were several times I groaned or sucked my teeth because of racist/homophobic language so just be aware. 1984 was a different time!
Aside from all that, which is already a lot, the plot is largely nonexistent. Just, hardly anything happens. But Updike sure does describe lots of stuff! I just didn’t not care for this book. I kept reading, in the hope that the novel could capture some of the magic of the movie, but it absolutely did not.
I’ve seen the movie Witches of Eastwick more times than I can count. It is a fantastic movie. It is sexy, funny, and weird. The book it is based on is none of those things. Such an extremely disappointing reading experience. The novel is mostly boring. This could have been a compelling novella, were it 400 pages shorter. Possibly.
Men writing from the perspective of women is (to me!) often exhausting, infuriating, tedious, and sometimes hilarious. It seems like Updike has never spoken to a woman at length, but has read a lot of 80s Cosmo magazines. I’ve been a woman for quite some time and know several many women and I don’t think any woman has ever thought the thoughts Updike wrote for the female characters in this book. It is truly wild. Did you know any woman over 30 is essentially washed up? Jesus. The way a woman of only 38 is described is…sorry to say wild again, but it is wild! Also…listen, motherhood is different for everyone, but it is difficult for me to imagine three friends, who are all mothers, just…not giving a shit about their kids and having like zero guilt. I think Witches of Eastwick is supposed to be feminist and it just truly isn’t.
There were several times I groaned or sucked my teeth because of racist/homophobic language so just be aware. 1984 was a different time!
Aside from all that, which is already a lot, the plot is largely nonexistent. Just, hardly anything happens. But Updike sure does describe lots of stuff! I just didn’t not care for this book. I kept reading, in the hope that the novel could capture some of the magic of the movie, but it absolutely did not.