Like his famous character, Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom, John Updike is at rest. One of the premier American authors of ALL time, not just the last 50 years, Updike died of lung cancer on Tuesday, January 27th. Coincidentally, I had just finished reading his latest offering "The Widows of Eastwick".
Updike was not for everyone, that's for sure. His prose could be tough going but it was worth getting through. No one, at least not in my humble opinion, was able to string together a series of sentences for 2 or 3 pages without paragraphs the way he did. He's won just about every major award there is except the Nobel Prize for Literature. Maybe posthumously. He definitely deserves it.
So who does that leave on the literary scene that I always look forward to? Cormac McCarthy, Larry McMurtry, Garrison Keillor, Khaled Hosseini, Tom Wolfe to name a few. For shear entertainment there's always Elmore Leonard, John Grisham and Carl Hiaasen. For historical fiction there's Jeff Shaara & David McCullough but I haven't seen anything from him since "John Adams" .
One author I've always wanted to read but never got around to yet is Joyce Carol Oates. Maybe when I reach the bottom of my 'to be read' pile. In the meantime, RIP, John. You've given me many hours of great reading.
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