Post-reading of Murakami, Marquez, O’Brien with the forced suspension of disbelief required brings to mind Updike’s near insistence on the realities of existence.
The setting, the interaction of characters, the getting inside to see the motivations, all beat home the notion of the indecision of our lives on a day-to-day basis. The recognition of reality with its options, its possibilities, its hope and its hopelessness. The emotional swings that follow a major decision finally made is the core of this book, and our job as readers is the same as that of the characters: to make some sense of it all if there is sense to be made.
Updike’s concentration on description, I believe, is to involve the reader in that reality–in Rabbit’s reality. To make the reader care enough for him and those he affects as if he were a friend that’s taken a path we’re not sure is for the best. The way Updike fits everything together in a manner that leaves us a world that we can believe exists–forgetting that all fiction is just that, an appearance of reality that doesn’t exist–keeps us tied to the tale, anxious for the story. It tickles somewhere in the back of the mind where we aren’t required to act, and yet can’t ignore the situation.
Is that Updike’s intention? Does an author always know, much less plan, who will get our attention?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology