Minds have been made up about John Updike. A typical review will begin by grudgingly acknowledging the brilliance of his 'style' - as if Updike's style were a set of dainty curlicues, and not his manner of thought - before complaining about his misogyny, his conservatism, his theological bad faith, the gratuitousness of his language. To Harold Bloom, Updike is 'a minor writer with a major style'. Gore Vidal thinks that Updike 'describes to no purpose'. James Wood complains that Updike fills his characters' thoughts with showy phrases that don't suit them or their situations; and that the 'very pretty ribbons' of Updike's style are a kind of kitsch, which expresses a complacent confidence in the plenitude and continuity and meaningfulness of the world, but can't picture absence or doubt.

LRB 31 March 2005 | PDF Download