Licks of Love: Short Stories and a Sequel, "Rabbit Remembered" [Paperback]

First, the 12 stories range greatly in quality. Two of them are very good: "The Cats" and "My Father on the Verge of Disgrace" are quite fine, and well worth your while if you happen to be in a bookstore where you can sit down with a copy and read them ;>

The other 10 are almost worthless, at times the obsession Updike has with the theme of adultery made me think I was reading a bad parody. The Bech story (and I enjoyed the Bech nooks) is notable only for its mediocrity.

As for the much anticipated "Rabbit" epilogue, I was very disappointed. The novella follows the actions of Harry Angstrom's son Nelson (Rabbit of course died in the last book). What surprised me about this novella was its homophobia. It has nothing to do with the plot, is unbelievable given the politics and age of the characters, and added nothing to the book.

After closing the book, I wondered why I had picked it up in the first place. Updike is considered a fine writer by many, and one can see a few glimmer of this in a few pages, but this collection should never have been released.

It doesn't disappoint. Of course, everybody familiar with the series knows that Rabbit died a long time ago, but contained in here are all of the other familiar faces: Janice, now married to Ronnie Harrison; Nelson, separated; Pru; Billy Fosnacht; and Annabelle Byer, the mover and shaker of the plot this time around. Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom's presence, though, looms over all, figuratively, and eventually as we shall see, literally.

Yes, as the lion is noted for his ferocity, the elephant for his size, and the giraffe for his height, Rabbit is known for, well, what rabbits are known for. I don't believe I've ever seen this pointed out in any reviews of these books that I have read, and am at a loss to explain why. (I apologize if I have missed something.) Even Mr. Updike seems to be curious about this, throwing us a not so subtle hint in this one.

Think about it: in the first book he cheats on Janice, and indirectly causes the death of his daughter. In the second book, he is separated from Janice, but cheats on his girlfriend, and while gone she is killed in a fire. In the third one, he is prevented from consumating his lust (by Nelson, no less, hilariously), and nobody dies. But in the fourth one, after cheating on Janice yet again, and with Nelson's wife this time, he indirectly causes his own death. Yes, boys and girls, the age old theme: sex equals death. Or in this case, illicit sex equals death, sooner or later. Or maybe, everything eventually equals death.

But I am being simplistic. These books encompass way more than this; in fact, one could argue that these books encompass everything that is human about all of us. Yes, Rabbit's life can be read as a tawdry, melodramatic, almost tragic soap-opera, but to do so would be missing the point. These books are also slyly, wickedly funny. How ridiculous, we think. Look at these bumpkins, struggling to find happiness through self-gratification. But how tragic. And how sad. Because we are contained in here too. It is Updike's magnificent intelligence which allows us to see the pathos and humor in all of it.

Is Rabbit Everyman? No, he is not every man. But he is also not uncommon either. We all know people like him. The stumbling good guy, buffeted around by life, taking what comes his way without much thought or introspection or faith. He doesn't really love anybody and is not really sure how to. In Mr. Updike's hands, though, this thoroughly mundane person is fascinating, and probably the most fully-realized character in American literature. We have been following him, and the America he lives in, for four decades now. There is no doubt in my mind that several hundred years from now people will be studying these novels in order to get a complete and thorough picture of American culture in the latter half of the twentieth century.

Is it a pretty picture? No, not really. Is it accurate? Yes, to the degree that it captures the life of one individual--no more, no less--it is. At the end, Harry is in Florida, lost, feeling like he has been swimming underwater. His life has been a void.

This book, Rabbit Remembered, allows us to see his accomplishments, through those he left behind, and ends with the characteristic brilliance typical of the entire series. It is New Years Eve, the end of the century, the end of the millenium. Four well-dressed, clumsy, drug-addicted, divorced, molested, depressed, middle-aged youths--Nelson, Pru, Annabelle, and Billy--are going out for the evening. Janice looks at them, her children--Harry's children--and tears come to her eyes. She is moved, but incapable of understanding why.

It is Harry. He is the father of illegitimate Annabelle and legitimate Nelson, the one-time lover of Pru, his daughter-in-law, and the one-time lover of Billy's mother. This is his connection to them, and what, inexplicably, has moved Janice. These children are his legacy. The legacy of the Rabbit.