Started last night on the almost-final leg of Rabbit Angstrom's journey through life. Harry's poor self-care is bound to bring him down. His shaky self-esteem and sense of aimlessly wandering through life are themes that Updike, a great writer indeed, consistently explores. I have to admit that despite his unrelenting immaturity and clueless behavior, I still root for Harry. And what about Nelson? Like father, like son, I suppose.

As the story progresses, Harry has the expected heart attack. The connection between the sailing accident and Becky's death many years ago is a bit novelistic and obvious, but it's well-written, of course. Now we're headed back to Pennsylvania, and there will be various battles with Nelson and the rest. It should be good! Notes:

- I find myself hating Nelson, despite my own history of drug addiction, theft, self-absorption, and obnoxiousness. I was able to hide mine better than Nelson, and thank God I didn't have a wife and kids!

- The golf thing is clearly a metaphor for life. Harry struggles to find that groove and hold onto it.

Back in PA, things are not getting any easier for Rabbit, who's supposed to be avoiding stress. Not likely! It's mostly his own doing, of course. I've already read the trivia questions, so I have an idea of the highlights of what's coming, and it's not going to be pretty.

- Updike and Florida. It's not exactly a love affair!

- It's taking Harry way too long to figure out that Nelson has a drug problem.

- Harry... the numb, fat guy! You knew there'd be a sailing disaster.

- Harry is, of course, a momma's boy. He wants Pru to take care of him since Janice won't. She's a survivor like Mamma Mulvaney.

- Nelson has had a tough childhood, for sure, but so far he hasn't shown any of the charm he had as a child. That may come in "Rabbit Remembered".

Progress is slow due to work "interruptions". Rabbit is out of the hospital, but we all know what's coming. Nelson is headed for rehab, and Harry (another prisoner of sex) will get himself into trouble while Janice survives (as women do) and moves on. I haven't been making many notes. I don't want to stop reading to do it! Oh yeah...

- The whole scenario of Judy "fooling" Harry and hiding during their sunfish sailing accident seems forced to reinforce the last line of the previous book. It seems unlikely that a nine-year-old child would have the presence of mind to do that in those circumstances. It's a head-scratcher.

I finished reading last night at midnight. What can I say - a lot, actually - about what these books have meant to me? The last two were brilliant, and I'm probably better off for having read them years after they were written. It's so entertaining to read them in the context of looking back at the time(s) that Updike was writing in and about. I'll write more tomorrow. I'm at work right now. Also, I want to read more about Updike and the Rabbit series in particular.

So... another day has passed, and I'm still thinking about this book and all the things there are for me to think about. Certainly, I can relate to Harry's "happiness-through-junk-food" behavior. It's a big problem for me too. As we get older, we care about fewer and fewer things, and we care less and less about them. It's a problem for the self-absorbed. Some notes:

- A visit to the doctor and its aftermath reveal that the aging, spoiled, immature momma's boy will die from self-destruction. Sad.

- Harry is meant to represent all of us white guys in the latter half of the 20th century. He can't accept not being the center of everything. Women are moving up... There's a Higher Power... Yadda yadda yadda!

- Janice shifts her nurturing/protecting mode to Nelson, and she shows a talent for self-reinvention. Again... Harry can't stand it; he can't adjust.

- Is it realistic for Pru and Harry to "do it"? Then is it realistic for her to tell? I guess it's necessary for the plot to move.

- There are a number of female characters in this book whose lives might make interesting stories too - from their perspective: Pru, Janice, Thelma, Mom Springer, Ma Angstrom, Mim, and more.

- I loved the social history described through the 4th of July parade. All the socio-historical stuff is excellent.

- All that death musing by Harry is so thought-provoking but potentially depressing. It seems like he was depressing himself.

- I read that Harry's thoughts are often Updike's thoughts - I think that's very true in some cases, but Harry is also a fictional creation and has his own mind.

- Harry/Updike on America is almost always spot-on and fascinating.

I picked up "Licks of Love" with the almost-200-page "Rabbit Remembered" in it. I'll read that after a break. That's it... I wonder how and why Updike decided to end Harry's life at such a young age. Did he get tired or scared of writing so much about Rabbit, or was it planned a long time in advance? Mysteries... There's so much more I could write about, but I guess I'll stop. I can't agree with those who describe Updike as a major stylist but a minor novelist. With the Rabbit books at least, he seems like the real deal to me.

Nuff said... 5* all the way!

Loved the writing, hated the characters.

Ok. I managed to get through all four of the Rabbit Angstrom novels. Each and every one of them truly deserves all the awards and accolades it received. There is simply no denying that Updike is an extremely masterful writer, bordering on genius.

But, by God!, his characters in the Rabbit tetralogy, without exception, are just seedy, soulless reprobates. Rabbit Angstrom, the protagonist, does soften to some extent with age and ill-health, but not by much. He remains a selfish, mean bastard.

This would be acceptable if there were at least one or two other characters in the series who were nice; but there aren't any. At least not among the major characters (and most of the minor characters, for that matter) that I can remember.

Many people praise Updike for uncovering the gritty underbelly of suburban American life, but it's not all vacuous and soulless. It's not all about used car salesmen, loveless relationships, drug addiction, seedy cuckolding and adultery, and gratuitous sex.

There is happiness in life, of which there is apparently none at all in the world of Rabbit Angstrom. No one laughs, no one smiles, no one expresses simple joy. Ever. And this is where I believe Updike fails, despite his undeniable skill as a writer and storyteller.

This last novel of the tetralogy shows Rabbit in a state of spiritual and physical decline, with his inevitable death by massive heart attack occurring while he is doing exactly what he was doing in the very opening scene of the first novel: playing basketball with younger kids.

I guess this is fitting, even if it is predictable, although it was rather stupid of Rabbit to knowingly push himself so hard considering how sick he was.

Is this Pulitzer-worthy? Undoubtedly. But would I recommend it? Maybe not. It's just not a fun, uplifting read. In fact, they're all pretty much downers. That being said, I'm glad I read them as an exercise in discipline. I value reading superior writing and narrative brilliance, even if it irritates and is unpleasant. It builds character and humility; and it's a great example for aspiring writers of what makes for excellent writing.

"Rabbit at Rest," the final novel in the Rabbit Tetralogy, is a remarkable work that sits on my bookshelf for months before I open it. It's not out of lack of curiosity about how Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom's life will end. Instead, it's because for a while, I can't imagine living without him. I've become so close to this character, the most recognizable and universally reviled of Updike's creations. He serves as a barometer for me, a funhouse mirror reflecting my cynicism and impulsiveness, and the closest thing to a living, breathing affirmation of my existential anxiety. As long as the final volume remains unread, Rabbit and I can stay together, suspended in a state of sort-of-grace, between the invulnerability of childhood and the decrepitude of old age.

Who am I kidding? As surely as I must read about it, Rabbit must die. Death is his prophecy, his unwanted companion, and he realizes this early in life. In the first novel, "Rabbit, Run," when 26-year-old Harry returns home to his wife after fleeing domestic responsibilities and living with a prostitute, he confronts his mortality for the first time. What began as a sense of being "crowded up" by the next generation becomes an acute obsession with the reality that his existence is self-negating. Updike's portrayal of Harry's journey through life is a masterful exploration of the human condition.

In "Rabbit, Redux," Harry's subconscious obsession with death grates away at his innocence and fuels his cynicism and bigotry. Janice leaves him, and he forms a strange commune with a young runaway prostitute and her drug dealer. Updike's use of structure and allegory in this novel is particularly effective, as he subverts the modern domestic adaptation of the Holy Trinity. By the time we reach "Rabbit is Rich," Harry has reunited with Janice in exchange for a partial inheritance of her father's Toyota dealership. Money has quelled his rapaciousness, but it has also dulled his wit and inspired artificial affections.

"Rabbit at Rest" is a somewhat misleading title, as Harry is not resting but rather helplessly watching the world pass him by. His health declines, and Janice takes up exercise and real estate classes, leaving him in a lonely convalescence. His drug-addicted son is running the family business into the ground, and even his grandchildren seem to be harbingers of death. Updike's prose is as beautiful as ever, but the character he renders is as nasty as ever. In the end, we are left to wonder what will happen to Harry in the afterlife, if there is one.

I gave 4 stars to each installment of the quadrilogy. However, upon further reflection, I think I would give the full set 5 stars.

The literary project that initially came to my mind while reading this was "Dance to the Music of Time" by Anthony Powell. It is also an epic centered around the life of one protagonist and split into four installments. But the two are not comparable for several reasons. In "Dance", the protagonist is a largely nondescript character who serves as our eyes and ears as the chaos of the world unfolds around us. In contrast, in "Rabbit", Harry Angstrom is the charismatic anti-hero. The book and all the characters within it orbit around his dominant character.

By the end, I realized that these books reminded me more of "The Sopranos" than any book I'd read.

It is an intimate portrayal of an American nuclear "working class" family buffeted by life. The family is headed by a charismatic, combative, infuriating, selfish but ultimately relatable patriarch. This portrayal is expertly drawn over a long time period, making it a truly engaging and thought-provoking read.

In spite of my protestations that I don't like Rabbit or Updike's writing, I have read all 4 of the Rabbit Angstrom books. This time, however, Rabbit has been less annoying and a more sympathetic character.

Perhaps it is because he is more introspective, or perhaps it is because he is more subdued in his usual reactivity. Until the end, that is, when he reverts back to the old Rabbit we knew and disliked.

In this Pulitzer winning novel, Updike really shows off his skills. His command of the time and the places he is writing about, the late 80's in Pennsylvania and Florida, is breathtaking.

His stream of consciousness wanderings cover every imaginable topic of the times, including sports, culture, history, politics, TV shows, movies, and current events like the Pan Am 103 crash.

His description of a golf foursome with Rabbit and 3 friends is spot on. Cardiac catheterization from the subject's point of view feels claustrophobic and real.

A pick up basketball game, a sailing excursion on a Sunfish, or just driving around town are brought to life with realistic detail. His lyrical descriptions of locations are beautiful and evocative.

As Donald Trump would say, "He has really good words." In the end, while Updike continues his masterful command of the language and the world, Rabbit returns to his stubborn, reactive and egocentric behavior.

He does finally get some rest, however, and I got the satisfaction of finishing this quartet of stories.

Harry Angstrom reaches a state of rest in the final novel of the four-part series of books.

However, the question remains: does he truly achieve peace and contentment? In my opinion, the answer is no. He persists in making mistakes as he reacts with his animal instincts and makes a final dash away.

He is a character who is not easy to love, yet one that we hope for until the very end.

The book earns 4.5 stars. Updike is an outstanding writer whose works skillfully capture the essence of culture.

His portrayal of Harry Angstrom is complex and nuanced, making the reader both frustrated and sympathetic towards the character.

The series as a whole offers a deep exploration of human nature and the search for meaning in life.

Despite Harry's flaws, we are drawn to his story and invested in his journey.

Updike's writing is masterful, and this series is a must-read for anyone interested in literature and the human condition.

John Updike concludes his remarkable quartet of Rabbit novels with a work that can only be aptly characterized as a true masterpiece. For "Rabbit at Rest," he was awarded his second Pulitzer Prize, a feat that only Booth Tarkington and William Faulkner had achieved before him.

Rabbit is now semi-retired. He owns a condo on the Gulf side of Florida and still maintains his historic home in Pennsylvania. However, both his physical and emotional worlds are starting to crumble, both literally and figuratively. The HIV epidemic is spreading, a jet disintegrates over Lockerbie, Scotland, and cocaine has become a pervasive substance that hits Rabbit close to home. His son Nelson, who is now in charge of Springer Motors, has developed a cocaine habit, and the sales statistics seem suspicious.

Rabbit, at just 56 years old, is acutely aware of his advancing age. The tingling in his chest is a cause for concern, sometimes even burning down to his fingertips. Yet, Rabbit has a weakness for salty snacks. What harm could a few more macadamias do? And those dry-roasted cashews are his absolute favorite.

"Rabbit at Rest" can only end in one way, but this should not be considered a spoiler. Updike has accompanied us through three decades of Rabbit's life. This book delves into the theme of mortality, exploring the persistent awareness of it, the nostalgic remembrances of a time when the body was slimmer, the hair thicker, and the inevitable acceptance of the loss of youthful invincibility.

Cashews - they sound delicious. Ah, yes, with plenty of salt, just the way he likes them.

Condo in Florida, grandchildren, retirement from business, hobby of reading a thick historical book... It seems that Rabbit has really stopped running and made peace with life. Life has become predictable, a little boring, but as comfortable as old slippers. However, he can't relax and enjoy it as his relatives keep throwing new surprises at him. /Spoilers may be here/

In the finale, Rabbit makes the most successful escape, perhaps, in his whole life. Reaching his goal, he is confused and rethinks his actions again and again.

It's a pity that the tetralogy has been read. The eventful family saga was very easy and interesting to read. It was interesting and informative to track the changes in the thoughts and actions of the heroes: from youthful bravado to mature resignation, from the search for oneself and attempts to change the world to the acceptance of reality. And it's good that the ending is open.

Highlights:

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He had always had a certain interest in the rather terrifying mixture of facts from which our individual lives grow and into which they then turn, the thin brown layers of decay composed of previous deaths, layers that, if they are deep enough and compressed, form coal deposits, as, for example, in Pennsylvania.

==========

What has the Western man achieved with his right to close the door behind him and let no one in? Judging by historical books, God knows what - except perhaps the invention of firearms and psychoanalysis.

==========

The wife suddenly understands Harry clearly, it's like a TV channel that you are not allowed to switch.

==========

His town, as he knew it, has completely disappeared without a trace over the past decades, but in its place another one has emerged - younger, more naked, more fearless, better. And here he is still loved, as before.

==========

And what the hell, we are all people, all human beings: just a body, with a brain at one end, and the rest, in essence, is plumbing.

==========

In these moments, the constant devaluation of life becomes too obvious. At night, lying awake, afraid that he will never be able to sleep again or that today he will sleep forever, he feels with all his fibers the murderous uselessness of everything material, as if under the action of some atomic decay, the precious shining present turns, with each tick of the clock, into the lead slag of history.

==========

We are only waiting for one thing from each other - recognition. To take the place assigned to you in the general rat race.

==========

To be a human being does not mean always acting according to one's own will. Rather, as Rabbit has just discovered, on the verge of life, you never act according to your own will, always according to the instructions of others:

==========

Rabbit clearly understood that the world is not a bastion of unwavering mercy, but just an old construction of different short-lived mechanisms, assembled hastily only for the sake of money. Everything for the sake of money. Your business is small - come in, go through and don't doubt: they will squeeze out of you everything that they can, especially if you are green and trusting. And if "Kroll" could disappear, the courts and banks could easily follow it. It will become unprofitable to maintain God, and they will close God too.

==========

It is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish where the TV family ends and your own, real one begins; true, the life of your family is not interrupted every six minutes by an advertising block, and the on-screen life does not end up in a dead end, in nothing, when nothing more happens, where neither your ingenuity nor the comic characters who sometimes appear at the doorstep, nor the explosions of laughter on the sound inserts, in short, nothing, except boredom and stubbornness, especially when you wake up neither light nor dawn, and the moon is still shining in the sky, and at the first tick some people are already honking, loudly discussing bets.

==========

A man should have a serious occupation. You need to do something. The best medicine for all ills is a healthy interest in life. Try to get carried away by something, find something interesting for yourself - something other than your own person, and then your heart will stop talking to you.

It’s over and so is he! That’s the best part about this book.

From the very beginning, the story had been building up to this moment. The protagonist had faced numerous challenges and obstacles, but in the end, it all came to an end.

The author did a great job of creating a sense of anticipation and excitement throughout the narrative. As the reader, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next and how it would all conclude.

And when that final moment arrived, it was both satisfying and bittersweet. On one hand, you were glad to see the story reach its conclusion and the loose ends tied up. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for the characters and the world that the author had created.

Overall, this book was a great read and one that I would highly recommend to others. It had everything you could ask for in a good story – drama, action, romance, and a satisfying ending.

Reading this book when it first emerged, I was truly relieved. At last, Updike had crafted a work as remarkable as Saul Bellow's, which always had the power to enrich one's thoughts about life.

Certainly, some of Bellow's success could be attributed to the European culture that underpinned so many of his characters, such as Mr Sammler or Ravelstein. Updike, on the other hand, had always written with a certain panache, his prose being facile and facetious at its finest. However, all too often, his books seemed to amount to very little. They were merely a smattering of the decadent bourgeois capitalist suburban culture, where neighbors remained strangers to each other, despite the possibility of more intimate encounters.

Updike's great subject matter, the cultural displacement and the meaninglessness of suburban life, reaches its zenith in this novel set in Florida. Here, culturally displaced individuals conceive the idea of retiring from places where no one has lived until recent decades, from where no one knows them well to a location where no one has ever resided, and where everyone has just arrived. The result is a brilliant summation of displaced persons who reach the pinnacle of displacement, in vast new hallways that are empty at both predictable and unpredictable times.

In a witty exploration of his lifetime theme of sexuality among the Northeastern puritans, Rabbit crosses the universal taboo. But the writing is so excellent that he seems almost predestined to do so, with both predictable and unpredictable consequences. This is only the second or third Updike novel, out of perhaps a dozen that I've read, where I felt that I truly gleaned something. (The Centaur and A Month of Sundays are the other two - both cited by the author himself as his best works. I concur.) What I learned, I leave for you, the reader, to discover.

I read this book at the suggestion of a book group. Earlier in my life, I had been unable to get through "RABBIT, RUN", but I thought that perhaps added maturity would enable me to appreciate Updike's writing more. However, I was wrong.

Even his remarkable gift with words, which is the reason for the second star in the rating, was not sufficient to compensate for the thoroughly unlikable characters and the depressing portrayal of several wasted lives. Moreover, I often found the style of writing difficult, making the reading of this novel a slow and painful experience.

Nonetheless, I did mark a few phrases that I liked. For example, "...the Dalai Lama can no more resign godhood than Harry (the protagonist) can resign selfhood." Also, "...a body eating enough at one meal to feed three Ethiopians for a day, a shameless consumer of gasoline, electricity, newspapers, hydrocarbons, carbohydrates." (describing the protagonist). And "He even turns off the radio, he feels so battered by pellets of experience." (from "Rabbit, again").

Rabbit invoked no sympathy in me whatsoever - only aversion. I don't think the author provided any reason for the evolution of this selfish character. I wonder what Updike could have accomplished if he had chosen to depict any positives, either in the characters or in society in general?

Dated, racist, sexist, anti-Semitic, repetitive, not as good as Franzen, just generally socially conservative.

These are the rather harsh critiques that have been leveled against a certain work or author. However, despite all these flaws, there is one character who manages to elicit a lasting affection - Rabbit Armstrong.

Rabbit's life is a claustrophobic one, filled with numerous challenges and difficulties. But in the end, his story comes to a kind of resolution.

This resolution is satisfying, not necessarily because it is perfect or ideal, but simply because we don't have to endure any more time with his awful family, the disintegrating community he lives in, and the decline of the culture that both reared him and ultimately killed him.

Perhaps there is something about Rabbit's struggle and his ultimate outcome that speaks to our own human experiences and the search for meaning and resolution in a chaotic and often unforgiving world.