American Literature
Journal Writing

Tabish Jaleel Shaikh

March 10(Saul Bellow- Seize the Day)

Seize the Day was a comparatively easy read, and seemed like a very real life depiction of American life, from the eyes of the two generations, Tommy Wilhelm and his father, Dr. Adler. Comparing it to one of the first novels I read in this course, Death of a Salesman, I realize that Seize the Day also has the theme of the broken myth of the American dream embedded in the story.
Also the title of the novel struck me at first, but I could not remember where I had read or come across this phrase before. Upon searching online, I remembered that it has its origin in one of the poems of a Latin Poet Horace, the word being “Carpe diem” in Latin. I remembered that I had read this back in high school, the stanza of the poem was:
While we speak, envious time will have {already} fled
Seize the day, trusting as little as possible in the future.

It’s interesting how just a small phrase can carry so much meaning. Saul Bellow has very effectively depicted the philosophy of carpe diem by narrating a real life scenario of war stricken America where maximizing the utility of time is the very important.

Although the theme of alienation and isolation is prevalent throughout the book through Tommy’s life events, Saul could not make me feel sympathetic towards Tommy. Tommy’s inability to judge himself, and be self-aware of his strengths and weaknesses causes his downfall. He is always reluctant to confront his failures, and does not have the courage to make the final step. He is not just isolated from his family, but isolated from himself in essence, by not letting himself know his true self. His life would have been less of a burden, if he was true to himself, and brave enough to confront and accept his failures and do something to set things right instead of relying on his father.
March 12 (Saul Bellow - Seize the Day)

One of the other dominating themes of the novel is the father-son relationship. Initially, when I was reading the novel, and I read about the father’s reluctance in helping the son, I was wondering why a father will be not willing to help his own son.

But as the story revealed, I realized how Wilhelm’s relation with his father was strained over the years. Dr. Adler wanted him to be a doctor, and had been disappointed in him ever since he quit college to try acting on the advice of a talent agent. Such a wrong decision in Wilhelm’s life not just affected his life back then, but continues to affect his life now, not just financially, but emotionally in terms of his relationship with his father. This brings up the recurring theme of “seize the day”.

Some decisions are just life time, and can change a person’s life absolutely like one of the famous authors Khaled Husseini puts: “It may be unfair, but what happens in a few days, sometimes even a single day, can change the course of a whole lifetime..”

Although, his father’s disappointment is understandable, Wilhelm’s feelings towards his father are multifaceted making the father-son relationship very intricate. He finds his father repulsive in many ways, but yet decided to move into an old hotel where his father lives, after leaving his wife. He seeks his father’s approval and love, yet resents the cold attitude given by his father on requests of some financial help.

One of the aspects of the novel which I realized more towards the end was that it not just discusses the intricacies of a father-son relationship or the disintegration of family life but on a larger level depicts the emotional aridity, and the isolation of a human soul from the rest of the society. This is more obvious in the last scenes, when while looking at the dead body of a stranger, Tommy feels the connection between himself and the rest of the men.

March 13 (Flannery O’Connor– Good Country People)

I didn’t know what to expect in this short story from its title. Good country people? It didn’t make much sense to me, and I think it didn’t really make sense until I read it all, till the last line.
From my initial reading, the first few things I noticed were the tag names. Half way through the American literature course, I am glad I am able to figure out tag names - Mrs. Hopewell and Freeman, instead of being oblivious to them, although I may still fail to fully comprehend the meaning.
I read the story twice to fully understand the theme behind it. On the surface it just seemed like a story about how Manley stole the girl’s wooden leg, but deep down, it wasn’t as simple as it seemed. I think Hulga’s wooden leg was not just a physical condition, but a deeper symbol throughout the story. Hulga’s artificial leg, which she is "as sensitive about as a peacock about his tail" is a symbol about her pride and faith, and she is completely dependent upon it.
I think the short story speaks of the need to be not so dependable on anything, and not trust anyone so easily. Manley is taken to be genuine and innocent because of where he is from, how he looks, and what he does. In the end, he turns out to be deceptive, something I would have never even imagined from the descriptions given in the beginning.
Like a famous saying goes, don’t judge the book by its cover, Manley should not have been judged by his outward demeanor. The story depicts the weakness of the human mind, and its urge to judge a person based on limited facts and outwardly demeanor.

March 14 (Flannery O’Connor– Good Country People)

By the end of the story, I realize that the title of the story – “Good country people” is in fact an ironic title, based on the climax of the story and hence, the story itself is the total opposite of the preconceived notions one would had about the story based on the title.
One of the other aspects I noticed in the story was that Hulga’s thoughts and feelings expresses the changes people might go through due to physical disability and anguish. Because of her handicap, she believes in nothing and severs all emotional ties to life. Also, she thinks she does not deserved to be called ‘Joy’ and hence, changes her name to Hulga – an ugly name with which she is more content.

Normal people can never even imagine the emotional trauma a physically disabled person might have to suffer. It’s indescribable and Hulga’s character depicts some of the aspects of what a physical disability can bring to a person emotionally. From childhood till now, her feelings about her wooden leg had changed from being embarrassed of it to taking it as strength rather than a weakness. Unfortunately, she is just too naïve to be easily manipulative and is easily fooled by Manley.

Also, the story highlights the concept of hypocrisy of religion. One of the most obvious symbols is the hollow Bible. Manley uses a façade of piousness to feign superiority, and earn the trust of others, but has "believed in nothing" all his life. It is indicative of the modern life where most people view religion as a benefit, and manipulates it to gain money or comfort. The concept of true belief and genuine faith has disappeared in the materialistic and selfish world of today.

March 17 John Updike - Rabbit Run
The story is really a simple one. It’s the life of an American athlete whose glory days are long gone, based on Updike’s own experiences when growing up. He lived in the Pennsylvania town of Shillington, and his father was a high-school teacher. As Updike states, he watched a lot of basketball when growing up, and inevitably the town became littered with ‘Rabbits’.
Although there’s not much cultural or political commentary in the book, it is reflective of what happens if a family man does cut loose. When you act selfishly, the people close to you get hurt.
These types of themes where characters are challenged in their religious beliefs, family obligations or marital affairs are very typical of Updike. These are of course explored further throughout the rest of the series.
This is my first time reading the man’s fictional writing directly. He certainly does like to present flawed people. Harry, aka Rabbit, is a conundrum. On the one hand, I despise him. On the other hand, I root for him to evolve. I WANT to grow to understand and have sympathy for where Rabbit is coming from, but it never happens. And maybe that is the point, I don’t know. I do know there is an entire series of books devoted to Rabbit. Since I can’t fathom why anyone would want to read on and on about a really selfish, egotistical, immature asshole, I would hope that the books that followed this one showed him improving as a human being. If nothing else, the last two installments received the Pulitzer Prize.
Rabbit is several years removed from his hey day as a superstar high school basketball athlete. He is married with a young son and another baby on the way. He sells kitchen gadgets to housewives by day and at night he goes home to an apartment that he finds quite dreary. His wife is a mess. She drinks too much. She is a slob. She zones out in front of the TV. She is no longer the engaging and attractive person that he once loved. He comes home from work one day and rather than go pick up his son from her parents’ home as requested, he decides to just get in the car and go. Away.
The story is a bit dated and reflects the attitudes, roles and slang of the 1950′s. It took all of my will power to keep reading after the first third of the book. This jerk is bored and disappointed with his life. His pregnant wife doesn’t do it for him anymore. And so he just abandons his family? Runs away? And I’m supposed to relate to this somehow? Oh sure, I get the whole “trapped” feeling. The fall from being the cat’s meow to an afterthought. The honeymoon being over. All familiar themes.
He runs away, gets lost, comes back and falls in love the next day with a prostitute. There is nothing redeeming about Rabbit for me. He shows signs of kindness, moments of love, a tender heart for his son. But they are all fleeting. Nothing sticks. He feels no remorse. No clue of how his actions damage people. So I then began to lose patience with the people who love Rabbit. Because it is so obvious to me this guy is a tool – they must be morons to keep caring for him. So screw ‘em. Let them get walked all over – they asked for it.
I kept reading because Updike has a terrific way with words:
“As she adjusts her face to his height her eyes enlarge, displaying more of the vividly clear whites to which her moss-colored irises are buttoned.”
Or:
“…a solitary plum tree ball with bloom, a whiteness to the black limbs seem to gather from the blowing clouds and after a moment hurl away, so the reviving grass is bleached by an astonishing storm of confetti.”
This book garnered much attention when it was published for being so shocking. It was shocking because of all the blunt descriptions of sex, lust, desire, fantasies – raw scenes that these days are not very shocking at all. But the motivations behind them – the road into the depths of the “soul” that is Rabbit – are still interesting to examine.
In the end, Rabbit likely wishes he had never run to begin with. The more he runs, the more trouble he creates for himself and those in his path. The less control, power and security he has. But does this ever dawn on him? It doesn’t appear so. I’m not sure if Updike was condoning his character’s actions – the title could lead you to believe he does. But I think it is more likely that it is a lot more interesting to write about what would happen if you just said “f**k it.”
Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom makes a bold, if confused and futile, attempt to flee his stale little life. He takes off across the dark countryside of Maryland and West Virginia, only to turn back in ambivalent fear. This ambivalence characterizes all of Rabbit's subsequent behavior. He is forcefully ambivalent, if such a thing could be imagined. In running from his useless marriage, running to a woman of easy virtue, and running around in search of some meaning behind this existence, Angstrom is an unpleasant anti-hero. Updike captures here a very real aspect of the suburban male personality. There is this powerful sense that there is something more to life, but no real drive or understanding how to find it. Meanwhile, in his selfishness, Rabbit tears apart the people around him. And yet, Rabbit is convinced there is something greater driving him. People try to straighten him out, but in the end we're convinced Rabbit will still run. Updike writes Rabbit's story from a very male perspective. Rabbit doesn't treat the women in his life as if they really are people, but this may also be reflective of social morés of the late 50s when this was originally published. At the time, much of the sexuality in the book may have been controversial, but by today's standards may seem shockingly puritan, as well.
But while some guys might take a trip out west, buy a new car, take up a new sport, Rabbit channels his restlessness by walking out on his alcoholic, pregnant wife and two-year-old son, shacking up with an ex-prostitute, quitting his job, and continuing to live in the past–a past that includes being a local basketball star. To put it mildly, Rabbit is a total jerk.
The beauty of Rabbit, Run is John Updike’s ability to make you love and hate Rabbit at the same time. He walks the moral tightrope, so to speak, in that you know Rabbit is completely in the wrong when he leaves his family, but Updike also paints a ugly picture of the life he left behind–a seven-month pregnant wife who drinks and smokes all day while watching television.
This idea of Harry Angstrom “on the run” is reoccurring theme throughout the novel. Living in small-town Pennsylvania, Rabbit can’t own up to the fact that he’s no longer a basketball star beloved by everyone. When difficulties arise, he runs. In most cases, he literally runs. From one girl to the next, from one job to the next, from one house to the next. It’s a situation that keeps repeating itself.
The way in which Updike frames Rabbit’s actions is interesting. The novel is set in 1950, a repressive time for females to say the least. It’s almost expected that “guys will just be guys” and sleep around on their wives. When they are tired of sleeping around and ready to come home, well, they just come home without much resistance.
Even Rabbit’s mother-in-law seems to have his back at times, over her daughter. It’s a glimpse into a culture and mindset that seems light years away from where we are today.

John Updike. Awesome writer.
Another beauty of Rabbit, Run is the feeling that the story is always leading to some sort of tragedy–you’re just not sure what that tragedy is. It builds and builds. Finally, when the tragedy strikes, it’s stunning. Though I knew Rabbit’s world was about to collapse, I had no idea Updike would bring the hammer down the way he did. It’s brutal.
While I read those few pages, it’s one of the few times in my life that I could feel my heart beating while reading a book. That’s how involved I was in Updike’s characters. In my mind, I’m thinking, this can’t possibly be happening. No way. And, then, it happens. While I wish I could tell you more of the plot, I don’t want to ruin the experience for you if you haven’t read the book.
A few other thoughts: This is not a book about basketball. The book cover, at least on the edition I own, shows the outline of a basketball (misleading), and the story itself is about an ex-basketball star. But there’s only one scene, the first one, in the entire book that shows Rabbit playing basketball. Really, this book is about a young guy who is unwilling to grow up and out of his athletic-induced self-absorption. In the end, he hurts everyone around him, including himself.
Updike’s style is unique because he writes in the present tense–similar to Faulkner in As I Lay Dying. He also describes his style as “giving the mundane its beautiful due.” I love what Updike said about his own writing. ”When I write,” he once said, “I aim my mind not towards New York but towards a vague spot east of Kansas.” That’s the feeling you get when reading Rabbit, Run–the story centers on ordinary people in an ordinary small town in Pennsylvania. Nothing glamorous to see here.
Rabbit, Run is an outstanding book that made me feel the emotion of the characters unlike very few novels I’ve read. The book doesn’t end with any type of closure. And, with three sequels (two of which won Pulitzers) Updike had a lot more to say about Rabbit. This was another great book by another outstanding author.
Other Stuff
The Meaning: “Rabbit, Run” simply refers to a reoccurring theme in the novel–Rabbit running from something or someone, both literally and metaphorically.
Highlights: One of the few people who connects to Rabbit is an Episcopalian minister, Jack Eccles, who is called to try and reconcile Rabbit’s marriage. He sums up Rabbit’s character in one humbling piece of dialogue: “Christianity isn’t looking for a rainbow. If it were what you [Rabbit] think it is, we’d pass out opium at services. We’re trying to serve God, not be God.”
Lowlights: For all of the beauty in Updike’s writing, I found the inclusion of several overly graphic sex scenes a bit tacky and needless. I’m not going to ride the censorship train or anything like that, but four or five pages devoted to a sex scene? Really?
Memorable Line: “If you have the guts to be yourself, other people’ll pay your price.” – Rabbit Angstrom
Final Thoughts: Ridiculously good book. I felt a lot of emotion when I read Rabbit, Run–and that’s one of the highest compliments I can give to an author. Few books have drawn me in like this one.

This is the first in a series of four books Updike wrote to document a rather unique view of America in each decade from the Sixties. The writing style makes for very slow reading, the attention to detail is sometimes painful because you will be left waiting for a dialogue to continue while he describes the character's frame of mind and reference. It brings you very close to the characters, often uncomfortably close.

Updike's characters are not cheerleaders and college football hero's. He writes about everyone else, the vast forgotten people who didn't become celebrities and sports stars and who have become cynical if not downright bitter and angry. It's compelling reading but don't look for a happy ending either, nobody learns any lessons or becomes an American hero and if he does acknowledge the American Dream it is only to say "forget about it, it's not for you".

This is hard gritty writing with a scattering of black humour, you'll need to set some time aside to read it, and the three follow ups. I've read the first two and I will start the third once my sensibilities have had a chance to recuperate. I would recommend this book to everyone except cheerleaders and football hero's.
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18 of 19 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars A staggering, cynical look at dealing with suburban mediocrity 10 July 2009
By Mr. Shaun Kelly
Format:Paperback
Rabbit, Run is an exploration into how a man copes with mediocrity, after being excellent at something. In this case, the Rabbit is Harry 'Rabbit' Angstrom, a frustrated 26 year old man, who was once a great basketball player, now stuck in a loveless marriage and a second rate job. Rabbit runs, with devastating consequences.

This is a book which cuts to the quick of the human condition, cynically explores brilliantly the difficulty of simply living an 'un-special' existence, and the breakdown of relationships through that costal erosion effect of gradually falling out of love with your partner.

I can't believe that it took me 33 years to come to John Updike. Reading Rabbit, Run is a real challenge, because as a recently married man, the issues that he so deftly deals with, have some resonance. I think the beauty of his writing, is in his ability to unnervingly hit upon the essence of what makes life so hard to live. Parts of the book are uncomfortable to read, but because they are so well written, you cannot help but tag along for the ride. This is not a book to read if you are looking to cheer yourself up, but if you want to better understand the human condition, I think you could do no better.
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33 of 36 people found the following review helpful
4.0 out of 5 stars The dreariness of a 'second rate' suburban existence... 1 Mar 2007
By Heather VINE™ VOICE
Format:Paperback
This book tells the story of the once great college sportsman Harry 'rabbit' Angstrom, who at the age of twenty six has made nothing of his former talent and feels trapped in a loveless marriage, to an alcoholic wife who is unable to keep their home and young son under control. Rabbit is stifled by his dreary suburban existence and cannot escape the feeling that having once been a 'first rate' sportsman, being second rate just doesnt cut it. Unable to accept his life as it is, Harry walks out on his wife and child and begins a complicated journey to rid himself of his dull existence. Along the way, meeting his one time sports coach Mr. Tothero and striking up an odd friendship with a priest.

The book explores the suburban experience of an outsider, one who cannot conform to the life he has become tangled up in. In much the same manner as writers like John Cheever and Richard Yates, this book explores the disasterous effects of characters whose expectations of life have been seriously diminished.

This book is really well written and has a clear narrative voice, while the reader may not agree with Harry's actions, we cannot help but become immersed in his world. This book is the first of four 'Rabbit' books which follow Harry throughout his life, but also acts as a great introduction to Updike. Highly recommended!
Updike, modern American literature’s smoothest and most limber stylist, chose an unlikely soul for his great fictional hero: Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom, an ignorant, philandering 20-something ex-jock, long past his high school glory days and feeling trapped in a job, a marriage, a town, a family that bore him. In a situation like that, running away is exactly what comes naturally to him. Rabbit is not a character calculated to inspire affection, but he is an unflinchingly authentic specimen of American manhood, and his boorishness makes his rare moments of vulnerability and empathy that much more heartbreaking.

Read more: http://entertainment.time.com/2005/10/16/all-time-100-novels/slide/rabbit-run-1960-by-john-updike/#ixzz2Qm4hHiZ3

Major Themes
Faith
The church that stands outside Ruth's window captures Rabbit's attention that night as much as her body; immediately, Updike suggests a connection between the thrusting act of sexual intercourse and the steeple of the church piercing the sky. What exactly forms that sky, in spiritual terms - i.e. what lies above Rabbit, beyond his day-to-day encounters and tribulations - is a question that animates the hero's conscience. Updike contrasts his grittily precise depiction of the mundane with allusions to God, Heaven, and Hell. These allusions are more pervasive and extend deeper than the conversations on the subject between Rabbit and Eccles. Indeed, what seems to link these two men is a shared crisis of faith: Jack fears he has forsaken the true calling of a minister, while Rabbit is distressed by the notion that his actions may have no meaning whatsoever. Though they chat about the "inner darkness" in men, Updike suggests that what troubles his characters most is that which cannot be described in words: the ineffable, which lies both within and beyond the dull middle-class milieu that forms Rabbit's earthly environment.
Love
Does Rabbit love? Is he capable of loving? We never know for sure, but Updike certainly links the amorous with the fearful: it is when Rabbit worries that his wife may die in childbirth that we feel his love for her most strongly, just as it is the memory of Rabbit's protectiveness of Miriam that suggests the depth of his connection to her. However, the question of love is not solely Rabbit's. The first time we adopt Ruth's perspective, Updike constructs an extended, almost stream-of-consciousness passage detailing the romantic and sexual encounters of her past. There seems little evidence of any true love in that past, and yet in her wistful recollections of the shame of boys regarding their genitalia we can sense a genuine affection that has not yet eroded.
Sex
Rabbit, Run stirred a great deal of controversy when it was first published due to its graphic descriptions of sex. The two most extended passages of this nature describe Rabbit making love to Ruth for the first time and, later, his failed attempt to do the same to Janice. On both occasions, the prime motif is that of a need to connect on both a physical and a spiritual level. Sex becomes more than simply an act of lust, though it is never quite associated with love; instead, it emerges as an almost religious process, through which two humans strive to seek or create an invisible bond. Updike's writing has greatly influenced attempts in film to present sex as a beautiful but essentially tragic act, be it Bertolucci's Last Tango in Paris or, more recently, Bruno Dumont'sL'humanité. When once asked what fascinated him about the attempt to record or describe sex, Dumont responded, "I'm filming the impossible" - a formulation that has much in common with Updike's suggestion of two bodies becoming one, a state to which sex aspires but which it can never reach.

Sports
Rabbit's need to continually "run" certainly reflects, among other things, his past as a star athlete. It is perhaps the end of his reign as a basketball champ that prompts him to search for meaning elsewhere - in sex, in religion. One gets the impression, especially during Rabbit's recollection of a game at Oriole High, that basketball once served the same role for Rabbit as the church does for so many of his peers: a way of instilling his life and his actions with meaning. He tries to communicate what was so special about this game - and the sport itself - to Ruth and Margaret in the Chinese eatery: "I get this funny feeling I can do anything, just drifting around, passing the ball, and all of a sudden I know, you see, I know I can do anything." Updike writes: "It puzzles him, yet makes him want to laugh, that he can't make the others feel what was so special." The novel begins with Rabbit joining a kids' basketball game and ends with him running: the sheer physicality of sports seems to represent a lost age for Rabbit (though he is only twenty-six years old), an age when he could "do anything."
Friendship
Two friendships figure prominently in the novel, and both end more or less in failure. The beginning of Rabbit and Jack's friendship fills both with excitement, but by the end of the narrative Rabbit is running away from Eccles just as he has run away from his wife and family. Rabbit's relationship with Marty Tothero seems healthy at first, with Tothero playing at being a father figure and both scolding and advising his former star athlete. The old man truly seems to care for Rabbit and his well being. Soon enough, however, the less agreeable aspects of Tothero's character emerge: he takes Rabbit out with two girls, refers to Janice as a "mutt", and does nothing to try to set our hero on the right track. Likewise, Eccles is not exactly a spotless savior: Updike repeatedly suggests, and Rabbit senses, that the minister uses him for his own purposes, to renew his faith in both God and himself. Neither friendship gives much cause for hope. One can contrast Updike's method to the use of Platonic friendship as the one unstained window into the goodness of humanity in Hamlet - a work to which Updike later wrote a prequel,Gertrude and Claudius.
Voyeurism and the Gaze
Rabbit is a perpetual voyeur. His eyes scan over every detail of women's bodies, even though his heart allegedly belongs to another. While watching Ruth swim at the public pool, his eyes drift over to "the lighter figures" of two sixteen year-old girls: "The one in a white strapless peeks up at him from her straw with a brown glance." While waiting for Janice in the hospital the day after the birth, Rabbit notices the "beautiful gray hair and somehow silver, finely wrinkled skin" of Marty Tothero's wife. These are but two examples - one clearly laced with eroticism, the other less obviously so. Rabbit's gaze is not confined to potential sexual adventures; it suggests his eternal restlessness, a need to look, to move, to run, and to do that permeates his everyday life.
Death
Though Tothero seems close to death in one scene, only one character dies in Rabbit, Run: the newly born Rebecca. That Updike reserves the great void for a character that has only just been brought to life, so to speak, is worth considering. It heightens the death itself; it is not so much a life, full of the past triumphs and scars of Rabbit Angstrom's, that has been extinguished as the blossoming of a life - life's very possibility. Thus, Rabbit's resolve to start his own life anew is in effect answered by the baby's drowning. The theme of death also provides, like sex, a reflection some kind of spirituality or lack thereof in Rabbit, Run. When Rebecca is buried near the end of the novel, Rabbit is filled with a sense of renewed faith - which later leads him to wound Janice with words so unspeakably cruel that they set him on the run yet again. Updike writes, "Rabbit's chest vibrates with excitement and strength: he is sure his girl has ascended to Heaven." Perhaps, in the loss of his child, Rabbit seeks to find some form of redemption for his own sins. That search only lands him on the road, running from both life and death.
The Car and the Road
We often associate the '50s with the inception of the road and the highway as American myths. Indeed, it was the era of Jack Kerouac and On the Road; of the development of the Interstate Highway System; of the coupled boom in suburban construction and family car production and ownership. America has since been inextricably linked to the automobile, and though Updike does not set his novel out West, he uses the promise of the endless road as a tempting one for his protagonist. Ironically, when Rabbit drives all the way to West Virginia near the novel's beginning, he is dismayed to find that the country around him does not seem to have changed much at all; he still feels trapped in Mt. Judge. The car and the road are thus false promises: Rabbit's cage is spiritual and moral, not geographical. He can run and drive all he wants, but he'll never be able toescape.
Marriage
In a sense, Rabbit, Run is a tale of four marriages and four families: the Springers, the Angstroms, the Eccleses, and Rabbit and Janice. We learn of other marriages, however: Mrs. Smith reminisces about her late husband and how much he loved his garden; Marty Tothero cheats ceaselessly on his wife, until a stroke cripples him. Marriage is presented more often that not as a constricting institution, one which chokes love more than it fosters it. Lucy Eccles muses on how sour her marriage to Jack has grown, Mrs. Angstrom refers to her son and husband as "soft", only later to be brought to tears by Mr. Angstrom...and yet Jack continues to believe in marriage as sacred. When Lucy finally explodes at him, decrying his persistence in helping Rabbit, who she refers to as a "worthless heel", she suggests that it was Jack's bringing Janice and Rabbit back together that caused the death of the baby. "Why were you so anxious to get them back together?" she demands. "Marriage is a sacrament," he responds. "Even a bad marriage?" she asks. "Yes," he replies.

Rabbit, Run Themes
Little Words, Big Ideas

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Sex
Rabbit, Run devotes much attention to sex, and sex’s sometime counterparts, reproduction and/or marriage. Delicate issues (really delicate in 1959, when the novel is set) like prostitution, m...

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Fear
Fear pervades Rabbit, Run, though the novel does provide moments of relief. The main character, Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom thinks he’s caught in a contracting and expanding "trap," or "web," or...

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Religion
Rabbit, Run is suffused with religious questioning. Much of the religious debate in the novel relates to variations of Christian philosophy, but Freudianism (treated something like a religion), ath...

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Identity
Rabbit, Run explores the ways in which individual needs and desires, responsibility, family, religion, pop culture, and The American Dream circa 1959 impact the identities of its characters. The te...

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Visions of America
Rabbit, Run’s author, John Updike says that looking at 1950s America through the eyes of his main character, Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom opened his eyes to the decade. The novel mostly focuses on...

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Drugs and Alcohol
John Updike’s Rabbit, Run, published in 1960, is obsessed with alcohol and cigarettes. But unless you count delivery room anesthetics, drugs are only mentioned on the first page – some...

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Transience
Rabbit, Run’s main character Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom is in a perpetual state of transience. He’s always on the move, usually on foot, though he’s occasionally found in a motor veh...

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Guilt and Blame
Rabbit, Run is a guilt and blame-fest. This starts at the beginning of the novel when the main character, Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom, runs away from his pregnant wife and his son. But when newborn Reb...

http://www.shmoop.com/rabbit-run/themes.html

Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom
Character Analysis
Twenty six year old Rabbit is six foot three, smart, talented, athletic, sexy, and has the gift of gab. He’s environmentally conscious, too – with the walking and running instead of driving (most of the time) and tending Mrs. Smith’s garden, his carbon footprint is pretty tiny. Yep. He’s kind of a free spirit. Which is part of why the old ball and chain is dragging him down. And we don’t mean the basketball he’s so fond of. We’re talking about Janice, his pregnant wife, and his son Nelson. Don’t get us wrong. He definitely loves the little guy, and perhaps even his wife, too. (Check out both Nelson's and Janice’s "Character Analysis.") It’s just that Rabbit is still a kid himself. Or, more precisely, like most of us – he’s trying to grow up and stay a kid. At least he wants to bring the best of his pre-adult life up into adulthood with him. Let’s look at a passage from the beginning of the novel, when he’s playing basketball with the kids:

You climb up through the little grades and then you get to the top and everybody cheers; with the sweat in your eyebrows you can’t see very well and the noise swirls around you and lifts you up, and then you’re out, not forgotten at first, just out, and it feels good and cool and free. You’re out, and sort of melt, and keep lifting, until you become like to these kids just one more piece of the sky of adults that hangs over them in the town, a piece that for some queer reason has clouded and visited them. They’ve not forgotten him; worse, they’ve never heard of him. Yet in his time Rabbit was famous through out the county […] (1.7).

See. He’s sure happy to be out of high school, so why should he care what these kids think of him? Why does it matter that he’s just another grown up? It’s like his feeling of freedom is tied to his high school fame. We can look at two possible reasons for this before probing deeply into our hero’s psyche: 1) he wants to be a star, and 2) he needs direction.
Everybody Wants to Be a Star
Rabbit is a humanized version of that stereotype we’ve all heard of (or had first hand experience with) – the popular kid who “peaks” in high school, and spends adult life trying to find something to equal the high school experience. This has lots to do with the idea of fame, or stardom, if you prefer. What was the great part of Rabbit’s high school experience? Remember when Rabbit first meets Eccles, who starts trying to get him to go back to Janice? Eccles asks him, “You speak of this feeling of muddle. What do you think it’s like for other young couples? In what way do you think you’re exceptional?”Rabbit’s answer speaks directly to the phenomenon we’re talking about:

You don’t think there’s any answer to that but there really is. I once did something right. I played first-rate basketball. I really did. And after you’re first rate at something, no matter what it was, it kind of takes the kick out of being second-rate. And that little thing Janice and I had going was really second-rate (4.187).

Ouch. But maybe he’s right. Maybe he could have a better life with some one other than Janice. Ambition is wonderful, but it’s also possible that what with TV stars in his living room, hawking the latest appliance, and modeling the American Dream, there were some pretty unattainable ideas of being first rate floating around in Rabbit’s 1950s (just as there are today). That, combined with his yearning for his old stardom, might be keeping him from seeing his life a little less harshly. Interestingly though, by leaving Janice, Rabbit is actually experimenting with an alternative to the 1950s American Dream, namely, not staying with the person he married.

So, that’s one reason Rabbit cares what the kids think of him. If they know who he is, he’s famous. If he’s famous, he’s first rate, he’s living the American Dream. And, if they know who he is, and he’s famous, then he must also be an authority figure, or:
Will Somebody Please Tell Me What to Do?
What separates the kids from the adults? Authority, by golly. Rabbit had a taste of it in high school. Fame, even on that scale, makes you an instant authority figure. But he also feels he owes much of his high school fame to Tothero, and isn’t sure he can succeed without his old coach, who is gradually losing it. Just as Tothero is becoming less reliable, enter Eccles, a minister, (big time authority figure). Eccles is about Rabbit’s age though, and he really wants Rabbit and Janice back together. So Rabbit has a more complicated relationship than he had with Tothero. Like when Eccles and Rabbit are on their way to that first golf game, after Eccles “melts Rabbit’s caution,” when Rabbit wants to make friends. “The excitement of friendship, a competitive excitement […] makes him lift his hands and jiggle them as if thoughts were basketballs.” Competitive is the key word here. Notice that Rabbit is never in competition with Tothero. Think back to the is-a-team-all-boy-or-all coach? debate at the Chinese restaurant. Rabbit insists that it’s all coach. But with Eccles he plays a different game. If he can somehow be the authority figure in that relationship, then he’s headed somewhere. He wants both kids and grown-ups to respect him. Simple enough, right? Now we are ready to dig deeper. Let’s start with:
Did Rabbit Have Some Kind of Species Reassignment Surgery or What?
Yeah, we know it’s a metaphor. But we also know a metaphor is different than a simile. Harry is a rabbit, not like a rabbit. Updike doesn’t seem to be kidding. But it is confusing, for us, and for Rabbit. Think about the night he first runs away. When he’s about to turn onto the road that leads him to the highway that takes him back to Brewer and Mt. Judge, we get this: “The animal in him swells its protest that he is going west. His mind stubbornly resists.” Hmmm. It looks like the animal and the mind are fighting each other. But this line makes it more complicated: “[T]hough his instincts cry against it, when a broad road leads off to the left, though it’s unmarked, he takes it.” So are his instincts the same as “the animal in him” and therefore fighting his mind? Which has won out, or are there three different things at war here? Which of these – the mind, the animal, and the instinct – want him to go home and which want him to keep running?

Perhaps this next line will illuminate things. This is after he tears up the map in frustration and confusion: “At any rate, if he’d trusted his instinct, he’d be in South Carolina right now. He wishes he had a cigarette to help him decide what his instinct is. He decides to go to sleep in the car for a few hours.” OK, now it’s getting clear. We are supposed to feel as confused as he is. He can’t make sense of the map, is lost, and doesn’t know which way is up. And now he’s sleeping in the middle of the road. If the point of view was first person he would be an unreliable narrator and we would know to be careful. In this case the narrator is reliably reporting what’s going on in Rabbit’s sleep-deprived head. The final line before he turns home is, “Hopping onto the highway, he turns instinctively right, north.” Maybe his instincts changed their minds. But we still don’t know if his “instinct” and “the animal inside him” are the same thing, and neither does he. Maybe exploring the Rabbit metaphor a bit more will help us understand him better.

We’ve all grown up on bunnies: the Easter Bunny; the now controversial Br’er Rabbit; the immortal Peter Rabbit and his whole crew; The Velveteen Rabbit (who wanted to be real!); and of course, Bugs Bunny, who is a tough guy with the gift of gab, just like Rabbit. All of these were around before 1959, and so probably contributed at least a little to this character. One might argue that Harry’s identification with the rabbit is a childhood obsession that’s holding him back. But before we get all judgmental let’s take a very basic look at some generic bunny characteristics to see if Rabbit has anything in common with “real” rabbits:

1. Bunnies are vegetarians. Remember why Rabbit likes Chinese food? Because “it contains no disgusting proofs of slain animals […]; these ghosts have been minced and destroyed and painlessly merged with the shapes of mute vegetables, plump green bodies that invite his appetite’s innocent gusto. Candy” (2.157).

2. When scared, bunnies run and hide. If they can’t hide, they jump around trying to confuse their pursuers. That one’s not as dead-on. Rabbit’s behavior is confusing, but he doesn’t seem to be trying to confuse people . And he runs but doesn’t really hide. Except for that time in the woods after his daughter’s funeral. But he was under lots of stress.

3. Bunnies are sometimes solitary, but often come together in large groups. That sounds right. Rabbit is pretty social; he just needs his alone time.

4. Bunnies have sex with lots of girl bunnies. They don’t use protection and don’t stick around to raise the kids (though neither do the girl bunnies). We can see where this one’s going. When Rabbit and Ruth first make love, he not only refuses to wear protection himself, but doesn’t want Ruth to either. But this comparison isn’t fair. Bunnies don’t have access to protection. And Rabbit is trying not to abandon his kids. Bunnies don’t even think about it. On the other hand, he wants to have sex with multiple ladies, even as he tries to resist his urge, which is just like bunnies, if you take away the resisting part.

We can see from this little exercise that Updike is serious about the metaphor, and that thinking about it can help us understand the novel. But, it does have its limits. Still, there are two more characteristics that Rabbit and bunnies share, though we won’t look at them in terms of the metaphor:
Running and the Trap
Why does Rabbit run? We can take it back to his basic struggle, the novel’s basic struggle. How can he be a grownup without losing the best parts of himself? The physical running he does is a nice balance between the two. Running is the epitome of youth, in some ways. A good kid is one who runs and plays. By running everywhere he goes – to work, home, to pick up his son – Rabbit is using part of his child self in a responsible, adult way, conserving resources (like gas) and keeping himself healthy and fit.

But usually his reasons for running are more complicated than that. It has to do with a mysterious “trap” he senses all around him. Sometimes he runs (either physically or in a car) to get away from his responsibilities, or to get away from difficult situations, but usually due to a combination of factors. When he runs to Janice in the hospital he’s also runningfrom Ruth, who is also pregnant (though he doesn’t know it), who also loves Rabbit, and who Rabbit seems to have a mostly happy life with. Many of his moves are like that. He’s both attracted and repelled by the things he runs to and from. This is partly because he knows what being a “first-rate” kid was all about, but not a “first-rate” adult, so every move he makes seems to draw the web around him tighter. Why does he run from Janice in the first place? “[H]e senses he is in a trap.” What happens when he’s driving away from her? “He doesn’t drive five miles before this road begins to feel like a part of the same trap.” And when he’s looking at the map, trying to figure out how to go south: “The names melt away and he sees the map whole, a net, all those red lines and blue lines and stars, a net he is somewhere caught in. He claws at it and tears it […].”

But just what is the trap? The above line suggests that the map itself is a trap. That to escape he’ll have to go off the map, to a place nobody had ever been, and nobody knows how to get to. In the hospital, waiting for Rebecca June to be born, the trap is all the sperm he’s ever released. So kids are part of the trap. And consequently sex (especially since he doesn’t like birth control). Obviously his life with Janice is part of it, too, and his life with Ruth. We can also take it back to the whole authority figure thing. Yep. He wants to be one. And this means doing right by both himself, and his family or families. It means being free and being responsible. But everything is all tangled up. What feels good for him feels bad for his family. Or so everybody tells him. His identification with religious leaders (authority figures, real grown-ups) is one way he tries to find the balance he’s looking for, even as he runs from them, trying to find his own path.
Is Rabbit the Dalai Lama? Is he a Saint? Is he Jesus?
We first hear about the Dalai Lama when Rabbit is listening to the radio on his road trip. That long section ends with the radio asking: “Where is the Dalai Lama?” As you probably know, the Dalai Lama is the spiritual leader of the Tibetan people. The current one, since 1935, Tenzin Gyatso, is the 14th Dalai Lama. He was just a little younger than Rabbit in 1959. But what was the Dalai Lama doing in 1959? Well, the same thing he’s doing now – trying to get autonomy for Tibet, from China, so the Tibetan Buddhists can practice their religion in peace. In 1959 that wasn’t working out much better than it is today. But what did he do in March of 1959 when Rabbit ran from Janice? He ran from Tibet to India to start a government in exile. Are we making too much of this? Maybe, but let’s look at what’s going on in Rabbit’s head when he’s in Tothero’s room getting dressed to go out with the ladies:

He feels freedom like oxygen everywhere around him. […]He [Rabbit] adjusts his necktie with infinite attention, as if the little lines of this juncture of the Windsor knot, the collar of Tothero’s shirt [that Rabbit borrowed], and the base of his own throat were the arms of a star that will, when he is finished, extend outward to the rim of the universe. He is the Dalai Lama (2.24).

What the heck? It might help us to know that the eight-fold path of Tibetan Buddhism is often represented as an eight-pointed star. Updike probably knew this, but Rabbit does not, which is just one of the reasons the metaphor doesn’t quite work. There’s not really any way to imagine the Windsor knot as an eight-pointed star. As much as we sympathize with Rabbit’s wanting to get out of a bad marriage, it’s just not on the same scale as freeing a people from religious oppression. But, this section does show that Rabbit looks to figures of authority to justify his actions. He really won’t settle for any “second-rate” authority figures. It goes back to his struggle between childhood and adulthood. In some ways he really does want full on sainthood (the ultimate in adulthood!) but still wants to have fun. When Rabbit is explaining to Eccles that he feels like “something […] wants [him] to find it,” Eccles replies, “Of course, all vagrants feel like they’re on a quest.” Rabbit rebuts, “Well, I guess that makes your friend Jesus look pretty foolish.” He takes this further as the novel progresses:

March 19 John Updike - Rabbit Run

March 21 John Updike - Rabbit Run

March 23 Philip Roth – Defender of the Faith

March 26 Philip Roth – Defender of the Faith

April 1 Leslie Marmon – Lullaby

One thing I have learnt over duration of this course is not to make any preconceived notion about the plot of a story based on its title. Lullaby, in my opinion, should have been a light novel, based on the name – Lullaby which is a soothing song, usually sung to young children before they go to sleep.
But as I read the story, I realized that Lullaby is in fact, a depressing story. Lullaby is narrated by an old woman who reminisces about some of the tragic events of her lifetime, including being informed the death of her son in war, the loss of her other children who were taken away, and the mal-treatment of her husband who is employed by a white rancher.
Also I felt there is something different regarding the way the story has been narrated. Ayah’s story is an interweaving of the present time, and her memories over the years but the story is not told in chronological order. Instead of the story being a flow of events from beginning to end, it is more reflective of the Ayah’s thought patterns and rocks back and forth depending on how thoughts and memories circle back on one another. I think this way of writing appealed to me more than the more usual way of linear narratives that most of us have come across more often. Although a non linear narrative might just make it difficult to follow the story sometimes, I felt it made me feel more involved and interested in the story.

Also although on the face of it, Lullaby is a depressing story about the loss of children, of family, and of culture, Ayah’s appreciable factor is her strength to stand quietly and firmly against it, instead of surrendering to it. One of the most noticeable parts was when Ayah avoids thinking of Jimmie and resists grief by finding relief in remembering the art of weaving done by her mother.

April 2Louise Edrich – Fleur

Apr. 4 in class Journal

Apr. 4 Leslie Marmon – Lullaby

After the discussion in class, I realized why this short story sounded different from the ones I read earlier. Leslie Marmom is a Native American author, and Lullaby was the first of her stories I read. Native Americans have a different style of writing like I identified in the previous journal entry about Lullaby.

The ending of the story too, represents elements of the oral tradition being passed on from one generation to other because Ayah sings a lullaby to her husband Chato, which her grandmother used to sing to her.
Silko uses her narrative to represent elements of the oral tradition even in the story’s ending; when she perceives that her husband Chato, lying curled up in the snow, is dying, Ayah sings a lullaby that her grandmother used to sing to her. This is an important element of the story, because Silko is particularly interested in the ways in which the oral tradition is passed on from grandmother to granddaughter.

In addition to the focus on traditions of oral storytelling, Silko also uses motif-a minor theme or element that recurs throughout the story, gathering significance with each new appearance-to exemplify major themes in the story. The blanket is a key motif in this story, as it links Ayah with her grandmother and her dead son Jimmie, in addition to associations with both life and death throughout her life. The blanket also reminds Ayah of happier times, sitting outside while her mother wove blankets on a big loom and her grandmother spun the yarn from raw wool. Here, the traditional handwoven blanket made from scratch by the women in the family serves as a metaphor for the passing of the oral tradition between generations of women-just as her mother and grandmother wove blankets in a traditional way, so Ayah carries on the tradition of weaving a tale in the style of the oral tradition. The old army blanket becomes even more significant at the end of the story, when Ayah wraps it around her husband as he lies curled up to die in the snow. The motif of the blanket is an important element of this story because it expresses Silko’s concern with the ways in which Native Americans can combine traditional with contemporary culture in order to create meaning in their lives.

In the context of the story, all of the major tragedies of Ayah’s life are precipitated by the intrusion of white authorities into her home. The cultural oppression of Native Americans in general is indicated through the personal losses Ayah has suffered at the hands of white culture. It is a white man who informs Ayah and Chato of this loss, symbolizing the larger racial issue of Native Americans dying in service to a nation that has oppressed them. Ayah’s coercion into signing away her children also has much deeper implications in the context of Native American history. The near-genocide of Native Americans by the U.S. government in the 19th century was in part characterized by the practice of tricking Native Americans into signing “treaties” that worked to their disadvantage. Finally, the rancher who employs Chato is another symbol of oppressive white authority. When Chato breaks his leg on the job from falling off a horse, the rancher refuses to pay him until he is able to work again. And when he determines that Chato is too old to work, he fires him and kicks the old couple out of their home to make room for new workers. These actions add class oppression onto the conditions of racial oppression from which Ayah and her family suffer.

April 5 Louise Edrich – Fleur

April 7 Tonni Morisson - Beloved
Apr. 9 Tonni Morisson - Beloved
April 11 Tonni Morisson - Beloved
April 13 Alice Walker
April 16 Alice Walker
April 18 The Floating Opera
April 20 The Floating Opera
April 23 Oleanna
April 25 Oleanna
April 27 The Crying of Lot 49
April 30 The Crying of Lot 49