The first great work of autofiction?: In Search of Lost Time - The Prisoner

Started reading the most recent publication in the anticipated 7-volume Penguin Classics edition of Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time - a much more accurate and accessible translation than the mid-20th-century work that we had to rely on - you can see how the title alone is a change and much closer to Proust's language than the previous "Remembrance of Things Past" (a phrase in a Shakespeare sonnet that not only did Proust not select but that also misrepresents in "Search": the experience is not one of "summoning up" memories but of being overcome by waves of memory - a point well made by my college mentor Richard Macksey). All that said, the 5th volume, The Prisoner, is not, so far (70 or so pp in, about 20 percent?), quite as clear and accessible as some of the previous books - found myself put several ??s in the margins as passages I couldn't decipher, though that could be me and not the translator, Carol Clark (she also includes some Britishisms and does not abide by the which/that conventions, oh well). The first section of The Prisoner is almost entirely devoted to the narrator's obsession w/ his partner, Albertine, who has moved in with him as that live in adjacent bedrooms in the family apartment as Clark notes in her fine intro., this would be highly unconventional and even scandalous in that era and class. The narrator is tortured by jealousy of Albertine and in particular disturbed by the possibility that she may be having sexual relations with her women friends. Of course we view and understand these jealousies today in light of what we know of Proust's homosexuality: Albertine is the placeholder for his male lover (a family chauffeur, I think) about whom Proust could not, or felt he could not, write directly - truly a shame that he could not have been more courageous, but today we can decode much of the novel. In essence, it's probably the first great work of what today we call "autofiction," the story of the writer's life as mediated by literary convention; oddly, al the names in the Search are changed, though pretty easily identified as Proust contemporaries or as composites (particularly the writers, artists and musicians). The single character who cops to his "nighest" name is Proust himself: In the first section of the Prisoner the narrator notes in passing that his name is Marcel, and I think that's the only moment of such candor in the entire series. Even as I quibble a bit about the first section of The Prisoner, there are always some startling and memorable passages and observations, and I know that there will be many more as the narrative shifts focus to a musical salon, where Proust can offer great insight and sensitivity. 

Why Updike's Rabbit at Rest remains a great novel some 30+ years since its publication

 John Updike's Rabbit at Rest remains a great novel 30+ years after initial publication and possibly the best account of life in America ca 1990 - 9/11, pre Obama, pre Trump, pre Covid - the troubles and struggles, as well as the sense of prosperity and of a chosenAmerican destiny seem so far away and in some senses petty, as the past often does - that it's a little quaint to read this novel - but there's so much in it! As a reader who marks up the margins (not in library books of course!, though I do sometimes copy-edit these) I found on marked almost every page noting moments of great insight, dramatic significance, and laugh or at least "smile" passages. Noted previously: Updike's talent can best be understood as observation, insight, information = character and plot. He does a great job linking the inevitable conclusion of this volume with the first scene in this quartet of novels (Rabbit, Run) from about 4 decades earlier - and in this re-reading I noted how Updike the sly included in the final moments a hint at yet a 5th novel in the series, which turned out to be a short novel or long story rather than a full-out novel. There's plenty of plot in this novel, but it's still largely character-driven, and I think it would be impossible to finish this novel without some deep feeling for the protagonist Harry/Rabbit Angstrom; he's a deeply flawed character, with his many infidelities, his moments of rage, his casual racist and sexist comments - but those around him are deeply flawed as well - and when all's done he seems in some ways heroic anode course emblematic of his time and place; his flaws and shortcomings and failings and suffering are all part of his epoch. 

Recent reports from the world of literary fiction on the Covid pandemic

 Two recent New Yorker stories give us some of the first reports from the world of literary fiction on life in the Covid19 pandemic. Each is good, in its way, but, you know what? I don't really want to ready anything about the pandemic. I'm overwhelmed just by living w/ it. I would never say that I turn to reading fiction so as to escape from reality; but I would say that I turn to fiction to experience the consciousness of another, and these contemporary/topical dispatches are too much like my own consciousness, which I've had plenty of experience w/ over the past 8 months. Rabe's story is a retelling of a nightmare - you'll figure out that much right at the top - in which he moves to a new house/apartment in a new neighborhood and learns that he now has a "roommate," and bad things happen w/ dreamlike logic, which to be fair Rabe has down exactly - but the unsettled nature of life, the upheaval from the diurnal norms, is so unsettling, at least to me, that I didn't read the story, Suffocation Theory, to the end. Doyle is another fine writer, and his story in current NYer, Life Without Children, is well-written top to bottom, but do I, did I really want to go there? This piece is from the POV of a man in England apparently on some kind of business trip as his wife and children are home in Ireland - which apparently for a period of time earlier this year had much tighter restrictions on social distancing and mask-wearing than did the UK, which had in essence no restrictions. The protagonist of the story wanders the streets of Newcastle, somewhat overwhelmed by the crowds of heavy drinkers and celebrants in the bars and walking the streets; he dreams of running away from his life and his family - a familiar trope; isn't there a Hawthorn story on this theme? Isn't in the opening theme of Updike's Rabbit quartet? - but all that occurs is that he stupidly tosses his iPhone into the trash, which turns out to be just some histrionics, as he can deal w/ his passwords and flight reservation  via his laptop, which is secure in his hotel room - so what's the point? Again, the story feels true, accurate, and painful - but it's a truth, accuracy, and pain that I've had enough of by now. Haven't we all? 

More thoughts on Updike's style in Rabbit at Rest

 Further observations on John Updike's style as evinced in Rabbit at Rest (1990): As noted in previous post much of Updike's prose and narrative style centers on his acute observations of topical details: e.g., what a house in 1950 central Pennsylvania might look like, for example, down to the smallest detail of decor, aroma, objets d'art and objects of daily use; the amount of detail, whether observed or recollected, in any of his late novels is beyond compare and astonishing, and maybe frustrating, to any reader (those who want the pure forward motion of plot will be dismayed by the overlay of topical detail, which some - not I - would consider ornamental). The second level of his prose: insight, as the topical detail isn't just "background" or "setting"; rather, each (or at least many) of the topical details spiral off on to observations by the narrator or, more often, by the characters (Rabbit, almost exclusively, in this novel) - what does the recollection from the past mean to them? What memories are evoked and released by these seemingly needless details? Updike's obvious influence here is Proust, but in Updike's case the novel never feels like memoir or a piece of auto fiction: Nobody will confuse Rabbit w/ Updike. The insights are, or appear to be, those of his characters. A third facet, which I overlooked in the earlier post on this topic, is Updike's wealth of information; this novel in particular is heavily researched - not only the news of the day over the year or so span that then novel covers (1988-89) but all sorts of arcana that the characters would know and the novelist would most likely not know off hand, such as the economics of running an auto dealership, the various processes involved in heart surgery. Amazingly, Updike wears his learning light - we never (or at least seldom) feel that he's showing off, as the information he includes is central to the lives of his characters and fundamental in building a novel that is in part a novel of ideas. These three aspects of style - observation, insight, information - all are channeled to the key work of a novelist such as JU, as stylistic elements that give us access to consciousness of another. 

Updike's style in Rabbit at Rest

The 2nd (of 3) section of John Updike's Rabbit at Rest (1990) concludes with a horrendous scene that makes us question anything we may have thought or felt in defense of the eponymous Rabbit's (aka Harry Angstrom)'s morality and judgement; I won't divulge the incident in the interest of those who haven't read this novel - though who have will remember it. It's a strange and upsetting incident in that JU's writing is primarily, and especially in the Rabbit quartet, about character - much more than about plot (which moves along like a stream - with occasional waterfalls such as this incident). In fact, there are a # of such incidents along the way: the sunfish expedition and near-drowning, in part one, for ex. It strikes me that Updike's work follow this pattern: from description (the extraordinary facility he has for creating or evoking a time and place through recollection of period and topical details: the look, for ex., of a typical working-class household in an industrial Pennsylvania city ca 1950) to observation (numerous insights that put into context his many descriptive passages; anyone who, like me, makes marginal notations beside passages of unusual insight or perspective will find him/herself marking up the margins of almost every page) to character (who experiences and articulates these observations? from whose POV does Updike write? Ultimately, his own - he perceives articulates a world as none of his characters could - although his articulation as author and narrator provides us with access to the consciousness of another, establishes a character) to plot (Rabbit confronts various crises over the course of the novel and we care about how well, or poorly, he resolves these points of crisis because he is so well established as a character) to significance (the historical context, the evocation of an moment in world history). In Rabbit at Rest we have a double-perspective: Updike is so clear and precise about the particulars of his narration - the specificity of the U.S. in December 1988-spring 1989 - as noted by public events and the objects of life at that time, so it's strange and disorienting to measure the distance between that era and ours; for ex., Updike notes that LPs have been replaced by tapes which he recognizes will someday be replaced by CDs - which we now look at as obsolete as well. Time moves on. 

Updike's great description of Brewer, Pa., ca 1990 in Rabbit at Rest

 The 2nd (of 3) sections in Updike's Rabbit at Rest (1990) takes place back in Rabbit's home town, Brewer, Pa., and as a result this section - compared w/ the first, set on the Florida Gulf Coast - feels familiar to readers of the Rabbit quartet and of other Updike stories and novels. We've been here before - and yet ... Updike still manages to give a terrific description of the fading industrial city as he gives us a vivid account of what it's like to return to one's home town after many years (even though Rabbit still lives half-year-round in Brewer), noticing all the changes, how small the houses once-grand now look, how each locale restores some memory, as Proust well knew and examined. Again, this novel is like a time capsule; the Pennsylvania industrial city JU describes, w/ its factory outlets and the first inroads of some high-tech companies looking for cheap property and housing, would present a completely different face and aura if described today. The plot wanes a bit in this section, as Rabbit pursues his adulterous misadventures - reconnecting w/ (one of his) long-time sex partners, Thelma (readers of Rabbit Is Rich will appreciate some of the nuances here), in a way that is highly improbable, remarkably guilt-free, and typical of Updike's work from Couples onward. With the sex scene out of the way, however, Updike continues forward w/ the main plot, as at last Rabbit suspects his son may be draining funds from the family Toyota dealership to finance his crack habit; as he shares his concerns w/ wife Janice, she is as we know steps ahead of him and, we suspect, will get into deep trouble (and debt?) to defend the immature and selfish behavior of their wayward, cantankerous son. 

Rabbit at Rest as time capsule

 I've been (re)reading John Updike's 1990 novel Rabbit at Rest, the final novel in the Rabbit series that spanned much of JU's literary life (there was a short story/short novel published subsequent to R@R). It's probably best to read the 4 Rabbit novels in sequence and the development of character and of family relationships over time is a large part of the pleasure, but I think there's still plenty to get from reading R@R as a stand-alone; JU's writing, often criticized as over-the-top and too plenteous is on full display here, as the narration, which closely follows Rabbit's life - he's now a 56-year-old retiree spending half the year in Florida mostly playing golf; the narrative begins w/ the arrival of the Angstroms' son, Nelson, and his wife (Pru) and 2 kids, all involved in a deeply troubling family crisis - and the trick of the narration is that JU captures Rabbit's thoughts, feelings, fears, maladies, and milieu and expresses all of this in a way that would be far beyond Rabbit's capacity to do so. There are incidental pleasures throughout, on every page - in the first (of 3) sections in particular as Florida ca 1988 was rife for satire and moral and aesthetic outrage. The novel, like each of the quartet, is a closely observed sense of the U.S. at a particular moment in history; w/ some writers, that might make the work seem and feel dated, but w/ Updike the novel now reads like a time capsule, just pried open. In some ways it feels much more than 30 years ago, and there are many "relics" (e.g., family outings to the movies, searching for phone booths to call home). If there are any flaws in the first quarter or so of the novel it might be the too-obvious groundwork - we can see so much more than Rabbit can - re his son's Rx abuse and Rabbit's weird sexual pursuit of his daughter-in-law. Plus, though the leaves fall where they may, Rabbit does not feel or seem at all like man in his 50s; by today's measures and expectations he seems as if he must be in his 70s - or is that just me carping?