3a42d16
|
This life is the one to be lived now, that much is crystal-clear. What did Thoreau supposedly say--'One world at a time'?
|
|
|
John Updike |
42d638a
|
Try to understand what the author wished to do, and do not blame him for not achieving what he did not attempt.
|
|
|
John Updike |
432cd64
|
The voice welling up out of this little man is terrific, Harry had noticed it at the house, but here, in the nearly empty church, echoing off the walnut knobs and memorial plaques and high arched rafters, beneath the tall central window of Jesus taking off into the sky with a pack of pastel apostles for a launching pad, the timbre is doubled, richer, with a rounded sorrowful something Rabbit hadn't noticed hitherto, gathering and pressing t..
|
|
acoustics
priestcraft
stained-glass-window
rabbit-angstrom
ministry
wedding
church
|
John Updike |
6f1de78
|
The beast is dry and mottled, shedding skin as minutes drop from life, a wristy piece of dogged ugliness, its labors meant
|
|
|
John Updike |
25b3e22
|
We must have sinned greatly, at some juncture long buried in our protozoic past, to deserve such a universe
|
|
identity
science
philosophy
life-philosophy
|
John Updike |
ef24c6c
|
There was a beauty here bigger than the hurtling beauty of basketball, a beauty refined from country pastures, a game of solitariness, of waiting, waiting for the pitcher to complete his gaze toward first base and throw his lightning, a game whose very taste, of spit and dust and grass and sweat and leather and sun, was America.
|
|
|
John Updike |
452c271
|
There was a time--the year after leaving, even five years after when this homely street, with its old-fashioned high crown, its sidewalk blocks tugged up and down by maple roots, its retaining walls of sandstone and railings of painted iron and two-family brickfront houses whose siding imitates gray rocks, excited Rabbit with the magic of his own existence. These mundane surfaces had given witness to his life; this cup had held his blood; h..
|
|
|
John Updike |
c5810f9
|
Dabbling in the sandbox gives Rabbit a small headache. Over at the pavilion the rubber thump of Roofball and the click of checkers call to his memory, and the forgotten smell of that narrow plastic ribbon you braid bracelets and whistlechains out of and of glue and of the sweat on the handles on athletic equipment is blown down by a breeze laced with children's murmuring. He feels the truth: the thing that has left his life has left irrevoc..
|
|
futility
lost-innocence
lost-youth
sense-memory
rabbit-angstrom
childhood
|
John Updike |
c5409f9
|
The brontosaurus had thirty-ton body and a two-ounce brain. The anatosaurus had two thousand teeth. Triceratops had a helmet of filled bone seven feet long. Tyrannosaurus rex had tiny arms and teeth like six-inch razors and it was elected President. It ate everything--dead meat, living meat, old bones--
|
|
politics
humor
|
John Updike |
e6f8a7a
|
He showed the world what can be done against the odds, against a superpower. He showed -- and this is where Vietnam and Iraq come in, that in a war between an imperialist occupier and the people who actually live there, the people will eventually prevail. They know the terrain. They have more at stake. They have nowhere else to go.
|
|
|
John Updike |
b9d412a
|
He wants to feel good, he always used to feel good at every turning of the year, every vacation or end of vacation, every new sheet on the calendar: but his adult life has proved to have no seasons, only changes of weather, and the older he gets, the less weather interests him. The house next to his old house still has the FOR SALE sign up. He tries his front door
|
|
|
John Updike |
e565907
|
Still, my fascination with Buchanan did not abate, nor was I able, as the Seventies set in, to move the novel forward through the constant pastiche and basic fakery of any fiction not fed by the springs of memory -- what Henry James calls (in a letter to Sarah Orne Jewett) the "fatal cheapness [and] mere escamotage" of the "'historic' novel."
|
|
|
John Updike |
380dca9
|
Her hair had been going gray as long as he could remember; she bundled it behind in a bun held with hairpins that he frequently found on the floor when he lived boyishly close to the carpet.
|
|
|
John Updike |
3c7cfa7
|
You are still you. The U.S. is still the U.S., held together by credit cards and Indian names
|
|
|
John Updike |
78cf33f
|
Men, they were able to conjure it up immediately, that was one of their powers, that thunderous splashing as they stood lordly above the bowl. Everything about them was more direct, their insides weren't the maze women's were, for the pee to find its way through.
|
|
|
John Updike |
8f1ca73
|
The faith in an afterlife, however much our reason ridicules it, very modestly extends our faith that each moment of our consciousness will be followed by another - that a coherent matrix has been prepared for this precious self of ours. The guarantee that our self enjoys an intended relation to the outer world is most, if not all, of what we ask from religion. God is the self projected onto reality by our natural and necessary optimism. He..
|
|
faith
god
life
self-consciousness
|
John Updike |
06d1120
|
He sees now that he is rich that these were the [shore] outings of the poor, ending in sunburn and stomach upset. Pop liked crabcakes and baked oysters but could never eat them without throwing up. When the Model A was tucked into the garage and little Mim tucked into bed Harry could hear his father vomiting in a far corner of the yard. He never complained about vomiting or about work, they were just things you had to do, one more regularly..
|
|
rabbit-angstrom
resignation
vacation
class
|
John Updike |
9869802
|
All this saving a child does! At one point I even saved the box scores of an entire baseball season, both leagues, since Philadelphia played, haplessly, in both. How precious each scrap of the world appears, in our first years' experience of it! Slowly we realize that it is all disposable, including ourselves.
|
|
|
John Updike |
eff378f
|
Nelson! Stop that this minute!" She turns rigid in the glider but does not rise to see what is making the boy cry. Eccles, sitting by the screen, can see. The Fosnacht boy stands by the swing, holding two red plastic trucks. Angstrom's son, some inches shorter, is batting with an open hand toward the bigger boy's chest, but does not quite dare to move forward a step and actually strike him...Nelson's face turns up toward the porch and he tr..
|
|
toddlers
nelson-angstrom
|
John Updike |
74e684b
|
The river, tonally, does not recede, presenting the same lifeless grey near and far, a depthless plane upon which Schmitt's dragging oars inscribe parallel lines and Eakins' oars, rising and falling, leave methodically spaced patches of disturbed water. The canvas is haunting - en evocation of the democracy's idyllic, isolating spaciousness, present even in the midst of a great Eastern city.
|
|
thomas-eakins
art
|
John Updike |
12b4992
|
Nevertheless, we react to one a bit differently than we do to Rothko's hovering panels or Barnett Newman's stripes, though Whistler does approach their extremity of abstraction; part of our pleasure lies in recognizing bridges and buildings in the mist, and in sensing the damp riverine silence, the glimmering metropolitan presence. ... The painting - a single blurred stripe of urban shore - is additionally daring in that the sky and sea are..
|
|
james-mcneill-whistler
art
|
John Updike |
f9c4761
|
A yawning repetitiveness as of a man who knows few words but will not stop talking.
|
|
|
John Updike |
97fe5bb
|
Make no mistake: if he rose at all It was as His body; If the cell's dissolution did not reverse, the molecule reknit,
|
|
|
John Updike |
0843a61
|
An earth hard as iron lay locked beneath a sky whose mottled clouds spit snow like ashes sucked up a chimney and then dispersed with the smoke.
|
|
|
John Updike |
3644ee8
|
As long as Nelson was socked into baseball statistics or that guitar or even the rock records that threaded their sound through all the fibers of the house, his occupation of the room down the hall was no more uncomfortable than the persistence of Rabbit's own childhood in an annex of his brain; but when the stuff with hormones and girls and cars and beers began, Harry wanted out of fatherhood.
|
|
nelson-angstrom
rabbit-angstrom
growing-up
frustration
parenthood
|
John Updike |
360cdfb
|
This got him to the door. There, ridiculously, he turned. It was only at the door, he decided in retrospect, that her conduct was quite in excusable: not only did she stand unncessarily close, but, by shifting the weight of her body to one leg and leaning her head sidewise, she lowered her height several inches, placing him in a dominating position exactly suited to the broad, passive shadows she must have known were on her face." ("Snowing..
|
|
couples
flirting
|
John Updike |
dfea34f
|
Ken appeared, was taller than she, wanted her, was acceptable and accepted on all sides; similarly, nagging mathematical problems abruptly crack open. Foxy could find no fault with him, and this challenged her, touched off her stubborn defiant streak. She felt between his handsomeness and intelligence a contradiction that might develop into the convoluted humour of her Jew. Ken looked lika a rich boy and worked like a poor one. From Farming..
|
|
|
John Updike |
99a0b27
|
The reel of your real life unwound only once.
|
|
|
John Updike |
bf2a059
|
TV families and your own are hard to tell apart, except your isn't interrupted every six minutes by commercials and theirs don't get bogged down into nothingness, a state where nothing happens, no skit, no zany visitors, no outburst on the laugh track, nothing at all but boredom and a lost feeling, especially when you get up in the morning and the moon is still shining and men are making noisy bets on the first tee.
|
|
television
family
sitcom
golf
|
John Updike |
1d9db6f
|
There always comes in September a parched brightness to the air that hits Rabbit two ways, smelling of apples and blackboard dust and marking the return to school and work in earnest, but then again reminding him he's suffered another promotion, taken another step up the stairs that has darkness at the head.
|
|
|
John Updike |
f176216
|
We dress our garden, eat our dinners, discuss the household with our wives, and these things make no impression, are forgotten next week; but in the solitude to which every man is always returning, he has a sanity and revelations, which in his passage into new worlds he will carry with him. Never mind the ridicule, never mind the defeat: up again, old heart!
|
|
|
John Updike |
6b54072
|
He doesn't blame people for many sins, but he does hate uncoordination, the root of all evil, as he feels it, for without coordination there can be no order, no connecting.
|
|
janice-springer
rabbit-angstrom
sin
|
John Updike |
28579b1
|
For supper Jill cooks a filet of sole, lemony, light, simmered in sunshine, skin flaky brown; Nelson gets a hamburger with wheatgerm sprinkled on it to remind him of a Nutburger. Wheatgerm, zucchini, water chestnuts, celery salt, Familia: these are some of the exotic items Jill's shopping brings into the house. Her cooking tastes to him of things he never had: candlelight, saltwater, health fads, wealth, class.
|
|
|
John Updike |
283488b
|
Dollars had once gathered like autumn leaves on the wooden collection plates; dollars were the flourishing sign of God's specifically American favor, made manifest in the uncountable millions of Carnegie and Mellon and Henry Ford and Catholina Lambert. But amid this fabled plenty the whiff of damnation had cleared of dollars and cents the parched ground around Clarence Wilmot.
|
|
money
christianity
religion
god
|
John Updike |
58a89cd
|
When he was about twelve or thirteen he walked into his parents' bedroom in the half-house on Jackson Road not expecting his father to be there, and the old man was standing in front of his bureau in just socks and an undershirt, innocently fishing in a drawer for his undershorts, that boxer style that always looked sad and dreary to Harry anyway, and here was his father's bare behind, such white buttocks, limp and hairless, mute and helple..
|
|
boxers
rabbit-angstrom
|
John Updike |
311cd35
|
Saying Goodbye to Very Young Children" They will not be the same next time. The sayings so cute, just slightly off, will be corrected. Their eyes will be more skeptical, plugged in the more securely to the worldly buzz of television, alphabet, and street talk, culture polluting their gazes' dawn blue. It makes you see at last the value of those boring aunts and neighbors (their smells of summer sweat and cigarettes, their faces like shapes ..
|
|
|
John Updike |
c447bce
|
Chaos is God's body. Order is the Devil's chains.
|
|
god
skeeter
chaos
order
devil
|
John Updike |
dfa5077
|
Momentarily drained of lust, he stares at the remembered contortions to which it has driven him. His life seems a sequence of grotesque poses assumed to no purpose, a magic dance empty of belief. the two thoughts come at once, in one slow wave. He feels underwater, caught in chains of transparent slime, ghosts of the urgent ejaculations he has spat into the mild bodies of women. His fingers on his knees pick at persistent threads.
|
|
rabbit-angstrom
hospital
lust
regret
despair
|
John Updike |
6bf25d3
|
He had mistaken the two of them for one and entrusted to her this ghost of his alone. A mistake married people make.
|
|
|
John Updike |
2546bbe
|
The cloud of the consomme's warmth enveloped her face and revived her poise. In the liquid a slice of lemon lay at fetal peace.
|
|
|
John Updike |
7175c35
|
I Missed His Book, But I Read His Name" Though authors are a dreadful clan To be avoided if you can, I'd like to meet the Indian, M. Anantanarayanan. I picture him as short and tan. We'd meet, perhaps, in Hindustan. I'd say, with admirable elan , "Ah, Anantanarayanan -- I've heard of you. The Times once ran A notice on your novel, an Unusual tale of God and Man." And Anantanarayanan Would seat me on a lush divan And read his name -- that su..
|
|
|
John Updike |
f9d9b9e
|
Momentarily drained of lust, he stares at the remembered contortions to which it has driven him. His life seems a sequence of grotesque poses assumed to no purpose, a magic dance empty of belief.
|
|
lust
|
John Updike |
13b23cb
|
We all dream, and we all stand aghast at the mouth of the caves of our deaths; and this is our way in. into the nether world
|
|
|
John Updike |
d53ab4c
|
Which witch is which?
|
|
|
John Updike |