Rabbit, Run

Rating:
Summary: Rabbit, Run
Review: Harry 'Rabbit' Angstrom was once king of the high school world, a star basketball player, tall and handsome, and able to get the girls. Now, several years on, he is married, frustrated and unsure as to how it all ended up this way. One day, arriving home to his alcoholic, dreary wife and his meager home, he snaps. He will leave his wife, his responsibilities, his child. He will run.

Rabbit turns to his former coach for advice, the old lecher introduces him to a part-time prostitute. He moves in with her the same night and they develop a dominant-submissive relationship, his affection existing only because it allows him to demand, hers because she knows no better. Like most of the other events in the story, this one is sad, gritty, and very real. Ruth, the plump good time girl, is a sympathetic character, and there are enough flashes of hard iron in her make-up that any sensation of her being a caricature or place-holder character fades.

What Updike has done here is to create the dreary reality of a life that turned out not quite how you expected. Rabbit is a man at turns puzzled, the confident, then angry, then confused, but his emotions are never directed at himself. It is almost as though he is unable to analyse what lies within for fear that he will find something he doesn't like or - worse - nothing at all. When he acts, it is quick and unpredictable, but oddly, never out of character. Because he rarely internalises in the narrative, for the first half of the novel he is as much an enigma to us as he is to the other characters, but as the story develops, we begin to learn what makes him him, and while his actions never really lose that exciting touch of randomness, they always feel right in hindsight, justified.

While evading his marital responsibilities, Rabbit and his wife's priest, Jack Eccles, form an unequal friendship. The priest is there to save Rabbit, to return him to the fold, to where he should be, but it is clear that the young man is as unsure about his world as anybody else. He doubts himself, he doubts his God. It is interesting that Rabbit actually draws strength from this indecision, allowing him to help as he is helped. It is made very clear that if Eccles had of been secure in his faith and in himself, he never would have been able to relate to Rabbit.

When the novel was first printed, there was a lot of discussion about the overt, explicit sexuality of it. Forty years and more later, it is both difficult and easy to see why. Rabbit is a conscious sexual predator, an animalistic man who thinks about sex often, and loves women for being women. But today, that sort of outlook from a twenty-one year old man is not surprising, and is all but expected. Perhaps what still has the capacity to shock is his domination of women, his calm, measured attempts to make them submit - and they do. I can't help but wonder if that is another taboo that in a few decades will fade, just like the rest.

Eventually Rabbit returns to his wife, but not in a triumphant, 'all is resolved' plot twist at the end of the novel. No, Updike does not take the easy way out, instead reuniting the pair a little over halfway through. And for what? A birth. His wife Janice is pregnant, to a little girl they name Rebecca. The events immediately preceding Rabbit's return to his wife are both sad and delicate, happy and horrifying.

There is one scene that deserves special mention. I won't reveal what it is so that the plot can remain a surprise, but I must mention its power, both on the novel, the characters, and the reader. It is an urgent scene, horrible in its inevitability. From the opening paragraph, it is clear what is going to happen, and the fact that we, the reader, knows about it, makes it all the more terrible. I cannot praise Updike's skill as an author in this particular section, and it is worth the price of admission alone.

To continue on that, Updike is an amazing wordsmith. He captures the unfriendly reality of everyone's life with ease. Only rarely dipping into lengthy sentences and almost never using literary tricks, Updike keeps his sentences short and sharp, his metaphors clear and crisp. Yet he never strays from what is real. Nobody is 'luminously beautiful', instead we have, 'Her hair in sunlight sprays red, brown, gold, white, and black across her pillow. Smiling with relief, he gts up on an elbow and kisses her solid slack cheek, admires its tough textures of pores.' In those two sentences, we are introduced to both the beauty and the reality of this sleeping woman, and it is wonderful. Throughout, Updike concentrates on reality, never fancifying or making a scene glib because he can. For every positive a character reveals, he shows us a - not a negative, never - but a neutral, a real, a grey. If a character was perfect, why would we care?

The ending was, unfortunately, a little confused, and I am uncertain as to how he could have extended the story of Rabbit to three more books. However, based on every page, every sentence, every word that Updike used to create his marvellous narrative, I am convinced that he can pull it off. He was only twenty-nine when he wrote this book, but there is a wisdom and sensitivity throughout that many never touch - truly a stunning author.

Rating:
Summary: Anti-Hero Trapped in Unhappy Marriage? Run!
Review: Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom was a high school superstar only a handful of years ago. Now he is a young married father, trapped in the suburban 60's, unhappy with a cluttered house, a drunken wife, and a son who will never be the athlete he was. Will this former basketball star find a way to make his life better, or will he run like a rabbit? The title says it all and Harry Angstrom does indeed run whenever things don't go his way.

Leaving the house to pick up his son, he impulsively drives from his Pennsylvania home to West Viriginia. He wants to run to the sunny shores of Florida to live the life he feels he deserves. Surely a man like Rabbit deserves more in life, or so he imagines. Unable to complete this journey, he runs to his former coach, a tired and washed-up man who introduces him to a part-time prostitute. Rabbit moves in with Ruth that very night and they begin a relationship they flaunt and thus humiliate his very pregnant wife and both sets of parents.

Is there an ounce of unselfishness in Rabbit? The reader may think so when he returns to his wife the night she goes into labor. Their reunion is bittersweet and because in large part of Rabbit's inability to see beyond his own needs, their reunion burst apart in a senseless tragedy that is horrific but so beautifully written the reader is glued to the page hoping against hope this terrible thing is not happening.

Will Rabbit be able to grow up and realize he is no longer the high school hero? Will he be able to comfort his wife, to provide a home for her and his children? Will he forsake Ruth, the hooker who accepts him as he is but is now pregnant with his child? In which direction will Rabbit run this time?

In addition to the novel's main character, Updike gives us as fine an array of secondary characters as can be found anywhere. He elevates Janice and Ruth so that they are not stereotypical "bad wife" and "good-time girl" but sympathetic characters the reader can relate to. Most notable among the secondary characters is the minister, Jack Eccles, who takes upon himself the task of saving Rabbit. He becomes Rabbit's friend and marvels at the paradox of this character. For example, after spending the first night with Ruth, Rabbit has the need to go home and get clean clothes as he cannot function unless his wardrobe is clean and pressed. The minister inquires, "Why cling to that decency if trampling on the others is so easy?" Thus lies the paradox of this restless anti-hero, one the reader cannot admire but cannot help but root for and not turn away from. It is this same minister who so succintly sums up the essence of Rabbit when he lambasts him later by saying, "The truth is you're monstrously selfish. You're a coward. You don't care about right or wrong; you worship nothing except your own worst instincts." And therein lies the crux of Rabbit's character.

The novel's second half is quite intense and on finishing it there is no way I could leave Rabbit and the supporting characters behind. I had to know what happened, so immediately began the sequel RABBIT REDUX, the second in the four-part Rabbit series. I admit that had I read this when it was first published I would have been let-down by the ending since I like tidy conclusions. Waiting 11 years to find out what happened to Rabbit would have been an eternity. I could barely wait 11 seconds, so I'm glad I discovered these books and Updike only recently.

Rating:
Summary: Rabbit Angstrom : Born to Run?
Review: I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that, prior to checking out "Rabbit, Run" from the library a few days ago, I had never read ANYTHING in my 38 years by John Updike. What a mistake! First, as many other reviewers (here and elsewhere) have pointed out, Updike is an amazing, powerful, beautiful prose stylist. In my opinion, and admittedly having only read one Updike book ("Rabbit, Run") now, I would say that he ranks up there as one of the greatest American fiction writers of the 20th century. In some ways (stylistically and thematically), Updike reminds me of another great (albeit problematic) American 20th century writer, Norman Mailer (his masterpiece, "The Naked and the Dead," specifically comes to mind). Second, I'm just in awe of how clearly, accurately, and powerfully Updike - at only 28 years of age (!) - was able to say so much in "Rabbit, Run," capturing the zeitgeist of a time and place (drab, grey, conformist, late 1950s suburban American hell, as epitomized by Brewer, Pennsylvania), and presenting his characters with such nuance, balance, wisdom, honesty, and - most importantly - truth. Incredible. Finally, I don't feel that it's an exaggeration to say that "Rabbit, Run" (and its sequels, which I haven't read, but have read about) is one of the most important achievements in American literature EVER.

So, what is "Rabbit, Run" about? In terms of themes, we've got a huge amount of material here (this is one big, meaty "rabbit" of a book!). Life, death and sex -- in fact, lots of sex ("Rabbit" is certainly an appropriate nickname in this context!!). Courage to face life (and marriage, children) vs. giving in to "rabbit-like" fear. Commitment/responsibility vs. freedom/running away. Religion vs. true faith (and what, if anything, such true faith might consist of). Sin vs. redemption. The fate of an individual attempting to find meaning and identity while fitting in (or not) to a stultifying, stifling, conformistic society (and ones' particular place/role in it). The romantic fantasy of busting loose, hitting the road, and finding a better place. (Personal note: as a huge Bruce Springsteen fan, I was strongly reminded in "Rabbit, Run" of "Born to Run," "Darkness on the Edge of Town," etc. with their many similar themes). Physical perfection/athletic achievement as potential sources of meaning, especially when you're past your "prime" ("Rabbit" was a high school basketball star, but now mainly relives his fading "glory days," as Springsteen would say). Growing up vs. remaining an eternal youth. Order vs. chaos. And, ultimately, the difficult balancing act between ones' quest for PERSONAL happiness and fulfillment vs. the needs of family, friends, employers, society. And much more.

Is this book, as some reviewers here have stated, "depressing?" Well, actually, I'd have to say yes. For one thing, Updike presents no definitive answers to all the important, dark, disturbing questions he raises here (nor could he, nor, as an artist, SHOULD he, in my opinion!). Meanwhile, almost everything his main character (Rabbit) touches somehow turns out wrongly, or tragically (the misery and alcoholism of his wife, leading to the book's climactic tragedy, being the greatest example). Plus, the setting of "Rabbit, Run" is inherently gloomy (dreary, "dung" colored apartment buildings which smell of "cabbage cooking" or "something soft decaying," a deserted ice plant with "rotting wooden skids on the fallen loading porch," etc.). People are mainly unhappy, or trapped, or scared, or confused, or looking for a little excitement to brighten up their dreary existences, or all of the above. So why read such a depressing book? Here are just a few reasons: to learn, to experience the world through the eyes of a great artist (Updike), to challenge yourself, to enjoy the sheer beauty of top-notch writing. Finally, a philosophical question: is the point of reading (or any other activity) simply "pleasure?" Should we run, like a rabbit perhaps, from anything that might scare us, or threaten us, or even depress us? Or should we stand our ground, look those things straight in the eye, and - unlike Rabbit Angstrom - NOT run. Personally, I vote for the latter option!

Rating:
Summary: Rabbit runs from responsibilities
Review: John Updike's first in a series of "rabbit" novels is about a washed up high school basketball star that struggles to find success during his post-basketball crowning. Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom finds himself running from mostly everything - including his wife, child, job, and himself. He shacks up with a local whore, Ruth, and relates to Ruth really well in the sexual manner, but seems awkward during everyday situations. He inevitable becomes attached to both his wife and Ruth and has a hard time deciding which fate suits him better - or another alternative is neither lifestyle.

This is the first Updike novel I have read, and I was so impressed by the impact of each sentence and the deep rooted meaning and symbolism in every passage. I think in a way, Updike has unfairly been labeled a misogynist, even though he has little respect for Rabbit's wife, Janice.

I found the book to be extremely sad, but quite touching. I imagine many men have gone through this agonizing ordeal of not knowing where there life is heading and if it is even heading in the right direction. Some just run from their problems - like Rabbit.

Rating:
Summary: Scenes from a marriage
Review: Not only until I was near the end of "Rabbit, Run" did I notice that this novel has many similarities with Ingmar Bergman's movie "Scenes From a Marriage". Both talk about the cold feet that husband and wives have after a period of being married. This is not the only thing they share in common, they are both brilliant. Using a polished and beautiful prose, Updike wrote a novel that grabs you by your rabbit ears and never let you go. You don't have to be a young male American to feel related to Rabbit's life. I believe that most people go through his very same issues sooner or later in one's life.

Sure Rabbit is selfish --who isn't? -- but his motivations are his fears, rather than his egotistical feelings. His fear of failing as a father, a son, a husband, actually, as a human being is what makes him move from one point to another; to change things is his life. His unhappy marriage, his dead-end job are just symptoms of a bigger disease, and in this angst that lies the central spine of this splendid novel.

At the beginning of the narrative when Rabbit is thinking of going somewhere --he's not sure where -- far from his family, he ask for directions in a gas station. The attendant, an old man, simply says: "Figure out where you are going before you go there." And, while Rabbit keeps that in mind, he fails to follow this advice. The fact that he goes through the motions in his life --he never seems to do anything with passion -- only proves that, like most youngsters, he is still trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life. This is one of the biggest qualities of this novel, to portray someone's life so full of truth.

Updike writes with his heart and his brain, making a colorful prose and characters so believable that you don't want them to go when the book is over. Every character is believable, the wife, the parents, the in-laws. I think his idea has worked so well, that he expanded that in his more books, creating The Rabbit Tetralogy. "Rabbit, Run" is highly recommended to those who like literary and good books. And now, I'm looking forward to reading the sequels.

Rating:
Summary: Rabbit is an ass
Review: Ok, I'll admit it, I'm one of those people who looks at lists of pulitzers and national book awards and goes and reads those books to act like I'm a big, brainy, well read student. 2 of the "rabbit" books won the pulitzer, and so I decided that I'd read all 4 (5?) of them. So far this is the only one I've read, so far, and I really loved it. Rabbit is such a sad person, a pathetic, indecisive has-been who I would want nothing to do with in real life, but this isn't real life, is it. I really enjoy Updike's style. Sometimes he can be a bit over descriptive, but I just read those parts while thinking about something like kites or past sexual experiences. I've already started Rabbit, Redux, and I am glad that I didn't hafta wait 10 years to read it like the suckers who were alive when these books were first published.

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Summary: A Truly American Novel About Sex, Sports and Religion
Review: On this my third or fourth reading of RABBIT RUN, I was reminded once again that in Rabbit Angstrom, John Updike has created a truly American character. Whether or not you like him-- and there isn't a lot to admire in this selfish young man-- he is as real as the people with whom you attended high school and as much a part of our culture as Willy Loman. Anyone discussing American literature in the last half of the 20th century has to deal with Harry (Rabbit) Angstrom, who obviously has a transparent name.

When the novel opens in 1959, Rabbit is 26 and married to Janice Springer. They have a son Nelson who was born seven months after their marriage in 1956. Janice is now seven months pregnant and has a drinking problem. Rabbit demonstrates a kitchen gadget called the MagiPeel Peeler in five and dime stores. He got his nickname because of "the breadth of white face, the pallor of his blue irises, and a nervous flutter under his brief nose. . ." His big moment came in 1951 when he was the hottest thing basketball had ever seen in the town of Brewster, Pennsylvania. His life has beeen downhill since then. He tells Reverend Eccles, the Springer family's Episcopal minister, who befriends him after he leaves Janice: "I once did something right. I played first-rate basketball. I really did. And after you're first-rate at something, no matter what, it kind of takes the kick out of being second-rate."

There is a lot going on here that has to do with religion. Rabbitt spends a lot of time with the Springer family's minister Reverend Eccles of the Episcopal Church, getting advice and counsel, not always solicited. Rabbitt "believes" in a higher power although not much in his actions would support such a belief. Reverend Eccles does much good in his role as a minister although his heart isn't much in a lot of what he does. He is much better as a good shepherd on the golf course with Rabbit than from the Sunday morning pulpit. His wife is a nonbeliever. Rabbit's parents are severe Lutherans. There are references to religion on practically every page of this novel. Rabbit's mistress Ruth lives across the street from a church where Rabbit can watch the congregation coming to and from the church on Sunday mornings. So is this 1960 novel dated? Not when a large majority of Americans believe in literal angels and President George Bush is considered the leader of fundamentalist Christians in this country. Also, Rabbit and Janice in 1959, given their background, would have sought the advice of a minister, rather than a psychologist for help with their marital problems.

No writer in America creates more complex, three dimensional characters than John Updike. We know hundreds of details about everyone in this novel. Ruth doesn't break the back of books when she reads them. Janice cannot cook weiners without their splitting open. Her mother-in-law has never cared for her. "I never liked that girl's eyes. They never met your face full-on." Rabbit always folds his trousers carefully before having sex. Minor characters are as richly developed as he is.

We also never forget that Updike is a poet. (William Maxwell said he wouldn't read a novelist who didn't write poetic prose.) So we have "the wreckage of the Sunday paper". A waiter goes away "like a bridesmaid with his bouquet of unwanted silver." There is the description of a "true" pink rhododendron in Mrs. Smith's garden where Rabbit works briefly. The Smiths had driven their Packard to New York City to get the plant off the boat and had put it in the back seat of their car "like a favorite aunt or some such thing."

Updike has written about a little piece of America. We know what products are in the grocery stores, what movies are playing, (Janice, for example, goes to see SOME LIKE IT HOT, what television programs people watch, and what cigarettes (Newports) they smoke.

RABBIT RUN is as timely as it was in 1960. And, of course, it was to be followed by three more novels, RABBIT REDUX, RABBIT IS RICH and RABBIT AT REST and a novella RABBIT REMEMBERED.

Rating:
Summary: A let-down
Review: The "Rabbit" legend has been so inflated in American literature, perhaps it was impossible for Updike's novel to live up to my expectations. In any case, I finally got around to reading "Rabbit, Run" and was quite disappointed. As novels go, it's perfectly fine: a simple story of a young man itching to shed his ordinary, middle-class, suburban life for some nebulous nirvana of love and excitement. The problem: I found Rabbit remarkably irritating and shallow, and the supporting cast (Ruth excepted) one-dimensional and unremarkable. The prose, with occasional exceptions, is drab and lifeless--perhaps it was a stylistic choice made by Updike to complement his dreary story, but I doubt it. Suburban malaise, the restlessness of American Everyman, marital hypocrisy--all of it has been done, redone, and re-redone in American literature before (talk about redux), and often with far better results (check out Richard Yates' "Revolutionary Road" for a glimpse of an unusually brilliant example of this type of novel). Maybe "Rabbit, Run" was sharper when first published in 1960; but as a reader in 2002, I am unimpressed. There's nothing in particular wrong with this book; but in my opinion, there's nothing much extraordinary about it either.

Rating:
Summary: The Sin of Moral Irresponsibility
Review: The novel is great: well thought-out plot, psychological profundity in portrayal of its characters and their relations, language splendor and richness of images and similes are hallmarks of the oeuvre of John Updike, one of the best writers of the century. The use of present tense in the novel makes its readers not onlookers but participants of the tragical events.

The author does not despise his main character Harry 'Rabbit' Angstrom but tries to depict impartially and understand him. Rabbit, a man who once was a first-rate basketball player, in the beginning of his mature life becomes an apprehensive son, indifferent father, inattentive husband, lustful but callous lover. He thinks only about himself, he is ready to run from any obstacle or trouble (his wife, his lover or any person who does not want to do what Harry desires), 'he doesn't care who he hurts or how much'. Gratifying his selfishness and feebleness in solving ethical problems, he leaves behind only disenchantment, pain and even death. His former lover fairly tells him: 'You're Mr.Death himself. You're not just nothing, you're worse than nothing. You're not a rat, you don't stink, you're not enough to stink.'

One of the main characters of the novel is a priest, there are a lot of church-goers (including Rabbit himself) on its pages, they speak about God but do not have faith. Their sanctimony corrupts people. Even such unbelievers as Ruth, a call girl and Rabbit's lover, and Lucy, priest's willful wife, look more sincere than their pious milieu (Lucy about Rabbit: 'If he's a Christian thank God I'm not one').

So, who is Rabbit? A monster? No, the author tells us, he is just an ordinary modern man devoided of moral responsibility.

Rating:
Summary: No carrots
Review: The problem with many other rabbit books is -- too many carrots. But this one -- just the opposite.