Selected Letters of John Updike

Selected Letters of John Updike:
Edited by James Schiff (Penguin Random House, $73, 912 pages)

John Updike is perhaps the preeminent example of what is called a man of letters – the author of short stories, novels, critical essays. A number of his letters are collected in a large volume, Selected Letters of John Updike. At 912 pages, one might remark that the editor, James Schiff, was not that selective, but for a career that spanned five decades of a man as opinionated and precocious as Updike, perhaps Schiff was being selective. From the early years (small town Pennsylvania to Harvard) to becoming a New York intellectual being published regularly in the New Yorker and hitting critical success with his first novel Rabbit, Run in 1960 at the age of 26, to his later years as a wise man of the literary world, John Updike was always John Updike. Updike might be overrated and there are already signs his star is fading – who reads literature or criticism anymore? – but these letters show an active mind seriously engaged in middle brow culture. Even in dealing with everyday affairs – perhaps an unfortunate term considering he was serially unfaithful to his first wife, Mary, with at least seven dalliances included in these select letters – he could be charming. In a letter to his divorce attorney, Updike provides details for the construction of a will that includes $20,000 a year until Mary once again marries and then for two more years, “as a kind of dowry from beyond the grave.” Updike, whose politics were conventionally liberal, could be the source of genuine insight, such as his assertion that “we assert our existence by refusing to do the expected,” which describes the psychological reasons for rebelliousness. In another instance, Updike writes, “every human contrivance is oriented toward an increase in human comfort.” That is a remark in a rambling letter about a “strangely reassuring rejection” letter from the New Yorker in 1952 at the age of 19. Updike’s letters will provide insight to the author’s worldview and are an example of why he attained the heights in literature and criticism that he has, but also, perhaps, why his reputation will not likely last a hundred years hence. He was very much a man of the late 20th century, with observations that speak almost uniquely to the moments in which he lived, writing about publishers, other critics, and minor writers (Erica Jong, Ian McEwan, Kurt Vonnegut) who are unlikely to matter much in the future.

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