Wednesday, January 28, 2009

A writer passes ...

... John Updike, R.I.P.

I confess that I, too, never succeeded in engaging with Updike's work, though I liked a lot of his non-fiction prose - and a lot of his poems. But his death comes as a shock. He seemed always young and he was the young writer when I was coming of age (I can still remember reading a review of The Poorhouse Fair in Time when I was in high school - I think the reviewer thought it flawed but promising). I find it difficult to think that he was 76 years old, let alone that he is dead. Eternal rest grant unto him.

See also:
When I met John Updike.

John Updike.

John Updike’s death makes me think of a glorious few days reading.

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