I’ve spent a lot of effort trying not to work very hard this week and failed miserably. A Hemingway blog post is coming VERY soon-ish, I swear, and next week I plan to work less hard FOR REAL THIS TIME to free up a few moments for blogging stuffs.
In the meantime, here’s my rant about Rabbit, Run, from back in February. Happy reading (unless you’re reading Rabbit, Run).
So far, I have not hated any book on this List as much as I hated Rabbit, Run. Runners up include The Grapes of Wrath and Things Fall Apart—but even they fell short of provoking the kind of thorough and profound hatred I feel for this unintentional horror story.
Here’s a sneak peek at John Updike’s most famous novel, featuring Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom in the role of Dude. It’s filled with spoilers, which should save you the trouble of actually reading the book:
Dude quits his pregnant wife, Janice, and two-year-old son, for the same reason he quits smoking: just because he felt like it. Dude tries to cope with the fact that he peaked in high school as the star of the basketball team. Dude solicits sometimes-prostitute/soon-to-be-girlfriend Ruth and whines about using contraception. Dude spends Ruth’s money. Dude hits on minister’s wife. Dude interrogates Ruth about her…
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