It was a little hard to stay interested by the 4th book.

However, Rabbit Run was especially good.

It had a certain charm and appeal that managed to capture my attention.

Most likely, it would be more enjoyable for the male reader as it might touch on themes and experiences that are more relatable to them.

But for me, it was still interesting.

The story had its own unique elements that kept me engaged and eager to find out what would happen next.

Although it may not have been a book that I would rave about to everyone, it did have its moments and I'm glad I gave it a chance.

Overall, it was a decent read that added to my reading experience.

Rabbit Angstrom is truly not the kind of person with whom I would willingly choose to spend my precious time.

I devoured the quartet in one go, without taking the decade-long break that Mr. Updike had intended between each novel.

I was completely in awe of Mr. Updike's remarkable ability to vividly capture the essence of the weak-souled Rabbit throughout the four decades covered in the novels.

What further amazed me was Mr. Updike's talent for presenting me with a thoroughly enjoyable read, despite the fact that the protagonist was someone I despised.

His writing was so engaging and his characterizations so detailed that I couldn't help but be drawn into Rabbit's world, even though I had no particular affection for him.

It was a testament to Mr. Updike's skill as a writer that he could make me care about a character I didn't like and keep me turning the pages until the very end.

Overall, reading the Rabbit Angstrom quartet was a unique and unforgettable experience, one that I will always remember for Mr. Updike's masterful storytelling.

The heft of this volume was truly a distraction. It constantly got in the way and prevented me from delving into the Angstrom novels on numerous occasions. In this particular case, my natural instinct was rather uncharitable. However, it must be said that Updike has an amazing talent for writing sentences that seem to almost read themselves.

There appears to be a hidden river of time flowing within his prose. This river gently guides the reader along unexpected paths and trails. While this can be a bit disconcerting for someone who prefers to be firmly in the pilot's seat, controlling every aspect of their reading experience, it is also incredibly rewarding.

It forces the reader to let go and trust in the author's vision, allowing themselves to be carried away by the beauty and power of his words. In the end, despite the initial distraction of the volume's heft, one cannot help but be captivated by Updike's unique writing style and the rich world he creates within the pages of his novels.

I read these four novels in July and August of this year. Among them, "Rabbit Run" stands out as the best, with "Rabbit at Rest" a close second.

The middle two novels seemed to be more influenced by external factors, making them more reactive rather than original visions.

Originally, the publishers rejected Updike's first submission of "Rabbit Run" for being too graphic, as readers in 1960 were considered too sensitive. However, by the mid-60s, Updike was able to publish his original work.

Perhaps the profits from "Valley of the Dolls" convinced the publishers that readers could handle Updike's edgy, raw, brutal, and disturbing portrayal of a man trapped in the non-existent "1950s-Happy-Days-Dream-World".

"Rabbit Redux" in 1970 took "Rabbit Run" to extremes, and for me, it was almost unreadable. It wasn't because it approached porn, but rather the excessive and unnecessary use of the "c" word.

Ten years later, "Rabbit is Rich" was published. While it wasn't as forceful as "Rabbit Redux", it oddly included endless descriptions of what Rabbit thought a man's genitals might look like. Was Updike responding to the criticism of his use of the "c" word in the previous book?

Finally, "Rabbit at Rest" seemed like an original vision independent of the thoughts of critics or readers. These four books together make for a great read, but only the first and last truly represent the writer's singular vision of Rabbit Angstrom.

I've also read other great works such as Anthony Powell's "A Dance to the Music of Time" from the 1950s, two books of Knausgard's "My Struggle", and I'm currently reading Proust's "Swann's Way". These are all huge, brilliant, one-of-a-kind works, separated by about 25 years.

Arguably, "Rabbit Angstrom" is among the best fiction of the past century, and let's not forget that the final two books, "Rabbit is Rich" and "Rabbit at Rest", won Pulitzers. This is "can't miss" writing, a vision like no other, sometimes painful and relentlessly raw.

If I were to encounter Rabbit Angstrom, there is a high likelihood that I would be inclined to give him a punch in the face. The reason for this is that I detested every single minute spent delving into his internal life. However, on the other hand, I found myself completely enamored with all the intricate details regarding his changing America. The crumbling of his family and his slow dissolution were also aspects that held my attention.

As emotionally frustrating as these books were, I must admit that every time I put one down, I couldn't help but praise Updike as a remarkable writer. His ability to vividly描绘 the complex and often tumultuous world of Rabbit Angstrom is truly a testament to his literary prowess. Despite my initial aversion to Rabbit himself, I was drawn in by the rich tapestry of the setting and the characters that populated it. Updike's writing has a way of making the reader both love and hate the characters, and it is this unique quality that keeps me coming back for more.

Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom is indeed a sarcastic brute, yet we find ourselves loving him nonetheless. In fact, he stands out as one of the most “realist” characters I have ever come across.

Over the course of four books, written ten years apart, we follow his life from the 1950s to the 1980s, witnessing nearly forty years of living in America, specifically Pennsylvania. These books are chock full of cultural references, news, and the mind-sets of the time, making the series something of a time capsule that vividly depicts how life was lived during those decades.

As I mentioned earlier, Rabbit is a bit of a brute, but this is by design. Updike doesn't allow any of his characters to be “heroic” or “preferred.” The only reason we can tolerate Harry is because his realism and sarcasm constantly keep us giggling. He dishes out just as much as he takes. However, his most remarkable trait is Updike's ability to make him relatable to an ordinary guy. Once a semi-famous basketball player in high school, he has now become a family man. We see him building his family but not being overly satisfied with it, and this theme persists throughout the four books.

Updike possesses a fantastic vocabulary and a remarkable way of engaging the reader with his language and its variations. Although there are many repetitious elements that remind us that these are the same characters over the decades, I can't help but be in awe of his flexibility with the written word. Perhaps I didn't fully appreciate his writing before, but I do now. He doesn't shy away from shocking us and pushing the boundaries of social acceptance. Even though this was a long journey that took me over three months to complete, with over 1500 pages, I'm glad I decided to embark on it.

I find that some books seem to find me precisely at the stage of life when I need to read them.

I wouldn't go as far as to say that I "really liked" or "loved" this collection of the Rabbit chronicles. However, I will say that I can relate to it in a way that I wouldn't have been able to as a younger man. Perhaps, in fact, I just wouldn't have wanted to admit it.

A friend recommended that I read this when he learned that I planned to sell cars for a while. It definitely gives a semblance of the car-sales life. It, like "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," provides insights into what occurs when crises confront antagonists. However, I liked Pirsig more. Still, I did find myself remembering things from Updike's constant referrals to national events. As a former journalist, it's reassuring to know that I'm not the only one forever influenced by the minutiae of the times.

I don't mean to slight this collection or this author in any way. I enjoyed it enough that I tweeted quotes while reading this collection. Nevertheless, I don't claim that it's among the best I've ever read.

John Updike is widely regarded as the king of metaphor. His works are renowned for their rich and vivid use of this literary device, which adds depth and nuance to his storytelling.

These four particular books offer an incredibly detailed portrayal of the 25-year period they cover. They paint a vivid picture of life in the United States, specifically in Pennsylvania and Florida, from the late 1960s to the early 1990s.

If you have a curiosity about what the U.S. actually looked like during this time, both in terms of the social and cultural landscape, then these books are a must-read. They provide a unique perspective and offer valuable insights into a bygone era.

Updike's writing is masterful, and his ability to bring the past to life through his words is truly remarkable. So, if you're looking for a captivating and informative read, don't hesitate to pick up these four books and embark on a journey through time.

This small tome encompasses books 1 to 4 of the Rabbit series. I dedicated half a year to John Updike's characters, reading other novels in between each installment and ultimately returning to Harry Angstrom and his family. As it turns out, it was with absolute delight.

Other reviewers on Goodreads have griped about Rabbit's lack of morals. While I understand how the protagonist might irk some people, simultaneously, I can't fathom how a reader wouldn't feel privileged to obtain such a clear and astute insight into the mind of an average middle-class neighbor in America. Updike employs the anecdotal with rare skill and to such masterful effect that, after approximately 1,500 pages, many of the characters populating the four novels seem as if I've known them personally. No one in there is extremely evil, and no one is a saint; this isn't your typical, cliched read, which I strive to avoid. There's tenderness within, there's wit, there's beautiful writing to depict Rabbit's inner thoughts, and there's a sharp sense of reality. As I closed the book cover for the final time, yesterday evening, I had the distinct impression that, despite all his flaws, I would miss Harry.

I firmly believe that Rabbit Run is an absolute masterpiece.

Perhaps it is precisely because of its brevity that it can be structured with such elegance. There is less of that overly 'decorative' writing style that seems to be present in many of Updike's other novels.

However, when I delved into Rabbit at Rest, I found that I had reached my limit with the character and the series. I simply couldn't bring myself to finish it.

As someone else so bluntly put it, 'Die already!' It's not that I didn't appreciate the earlier works, but by the time I got to this installment, something had changed for me.

The charm that initially drew me in had somehow dissipated, and I was left with a sense of exhaustion and disinterest.

Nonetheless, I still recognize the significance and quality of the Rabbit series as a whole, even if this particular book didn't quite hit the mark for me.

One of my favorite writers is John Updike.

I have read his Rabbit series a number of times. Among them, Rabbit at Rest has to be my absolute favorite.

What I truly admire about Updike is his remarkable ability to narrate a story seamlessly from numerous points of view. He does this without showing any discrimination against the main character, Rabbit.

Moreover, his portrayal of the situation when Rabbit's son gets treated for cocaine addiction is not only thought-provoking but also hilarious in a strange way. It adds a unique layer of complexity and humor to the story.

Updike's writing style is so engaging that it makes me want to keep coming back to his works, exploring the lives and minds of his characters over and over again.

Rabbit Redux: In my mind, Rabbit Redux stands out as a remarkable installment compared to the first and third entries in the Rabbit Angstrom novels. Updike's talent for creating multi-faceted characters is truly remarkable. Jill, a flower child; Skeeter, a Vietnam War Vet; Mim, an emigrant to the west in pursuit of a hedonistic lifestyle; and Rabbit himself - all are brought to life in a way that makes them individuals first and emblems of a diverse America second. Rabbit, unfettered by but also indifferent to his wife's infidelities, attempts to connect with each of these disparate elements. He achieves a measure of success with all of them, but at the cost of corrupting his son, scandalizing his neighbors, and ultimately witnessing his home in middle America go up in flames. There is a glimmer of hope in Rabbit, an unwavering optimism he sees in people and a willingness to reach out, even if it's only through apathetic sexual intercourse. Set against the backdrop of the moon landing, which Updike artfully places on each fictional television screen in the novel, Rabbit is adrift in the heart of America, yet eager to latch onto anything else out there, sometimes in vain, as he struggles to connect with something larger that he can scarcely articulate.

Rabbit is Rich: In this novel, Rabbit has reached the stasis of middle age. He is rich but not wealthy, no longer young but not elderly either, and has a growing middle. Gone is the running of the earlier novels, his wild search for something more. Now, he seems to have reached the pinnacle of his life, yet he can't escape the malaise and frustration that define him. He is trapped by his money, which is really Janice's, and by the stasis he has come to terms with. Although he claims to be happy just to be alive, he can't stop fantasizing about other sexual partners, more money, his potential daughter that Ruth may or may not have had, and all the dead who have preceded him. While he is confined by his money and lost in fantasies of lives he never lived, he is doomed to watch his son repeat his own mistakes without being able to reach him. The book seems to end cyclically, with Harry resting in his new but empty house, unable to go anywhere else, holding his son's daughter and claiming her as his own. Thematically, there is an emphasis on being spent: Rabbit's spent youth, the energy crisis that frames this novel as the moon landing framed Redux, spent characters like Charlie, Thelma, Peggy, and Ma Springer, and the spent American dream that has been replaced by a materialistic leisure class that Rabbit inhabits.

Stylistically, Updike demonstrates his mastery in these two novels. His description of middle America, Pennsylvania, is at times overly elaborate, but at others, it is so accurate that it's almost disheartening. With Rabbit, he skillfully weaves together interior musings, gut instincts, exterior reality, and memory into coherent paragraphs that, at times, contain profound insights that make his sometimes verbose style well worth paying attention to. He is also an excellent describer of small personal details, able to capture the personality of a character through the movement of their face or eyes, or the tone of their voice - especially as he ties these details to the way Rabbit interprets them, revealing both the precise detail and a corresponding aspect of Rabbit's mind. He strings together the stories with one long scene after another, sometimes spending pages and pages describing a single party, and sometimes skipping over months with a single page break. By doing so, he is able to focus intently on the scenes of interest in Rabbit's life and summarize the more mundane details that are not crucial to the narrative. His dialogue is sharp for most characters, especially in Rabbit, Redux, where it feels like Updike has less contempt for the characters he is creating. The best line in Redux is when Skeeter is asked his opinion of a black political figure and he simply replies: "I don't much cotton to establishment niggers." Not only is this line comically great, but it also idiosyncratically defines Skeeter perfectly - he would never cotton to establishment niggers. His precise descriptions of the internal workings of his characters and his use of memory combined with setting, much like Joyce, give his novels an emotional depth at times that is both striking and unexpected throughout these novels. There is much to learn from Updike's writing.