When John Updike passed away earlier this year I decided to re-read his volume of memoirs, Self-Consciousness, which I hadn’t looked at since it was published in 1989. It is a marvelous book, and confirms everything good about Updike that I’d almost forgotten as he slogged prolifically through the last couple of decades doing books that were, well, uneven (maybe the truth is I just envy his productivity).
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