JOHN UPDIKE: Many tipsters are wondering why Wonkette hasn’t “covered” the important D.C. political news regarding the death of New York/Massachusetts novelist John Updike. Here you go! [Washington Post]
Anybody who could write a page about the beauty and charming character of English girls, and wrap it up with, “And talk of oral sex!” was all right with me.
slavojzizek: Well that just show that DFW was a mercenary tool then. And not a bright one at that. The firsts would increase if he won the Nobel and really only the early works. He had a good print run later on. DFW shoulda known that, and he should have known that there have been loads o’ collectible authors big in their lifetimes and not after death. Kinda like DFW, come to think of it.
Theodorick Of York: Hehehe, and Andrew Sulllivan just puked…um, no, forget I said that. And STOP demanding Sully’s medical records. He has a right to privacy (the English kind that sounds like privy).
Come here a minute: wheelie: or, Sinclair Lewis = Sherry Lewis = Lambchop = Rabbit = VW = George W. = everything is and always will be, his fault. (My mind was a terrible thing to waste). My apologies.
On the happier side, Henry the Tuatara’s eggs have finally hatched. I would link to the post, but believe it or not, Wonkette doesn’t have a single “tuatara” tag. I swear SKS had a post about him, though.
loudmouthredhead:
That make’s much more sense. My wife once tried to tell me there was an author, that wasn’t a porn writer, named Shakespeare. Right, like I believed her.
SayItWithWookies: No, Rabbit has to be followed by another ‘R’ word to be a true Updike title. Maybe if the bury him, dig him up, and then bury him again, we can use ‘Rabbit is Re-interred’.
I for one will be dancing on his grave. Plain vanilla suburban glorifying plain vanilla suburban living. Yecch. Only slightly amusing thing he ever did was the Bech series — had to write about Jews to be even remotely interesting.
I tried to read one of his books. The first Rabbit book. Got about fitty pages in & quit. That is the sum total of my John Updike experience. It is sad when a literary giant dies, even if I didn’t rate him, because there will probably be no more literary giants, seeing as how the latest generation of young folk have the attention span of Ted Haggard watching straight porn. Even big time serious authors these days don’t get much in the way of sales. They win prizes, but it’s the Crichton kind of crap that sells, or Cornwall, or whatever. Thankfully I have switched almost full time to history, apart from Alan Furst. Historical thrillers set in 1930s Europe cannot be beat, when done well. Goodbye Rabbit guy.
This will just kill Norman Mailer.
Anybody who could write a page about the beauty and charming character of English girls, and wrap it up with, “And talk of oral sex!” was all right with me.
What’s a novelist? Is that like a poster of a really long blog comment?
ph7: Win
Hehe, you said dike…oop, too soon?
I’m sure somehow this is Bush’s fault as well.
Huh, I thought you were just gonna say ‘Rabbit is dead’. rip.
ph7: they post on the sneakernet.
Was it David Foster Wallace who once wrote a piece wondering if his Updike firsts would increase in value when the guy died? Seriously.
Tommy Says Soooo:
Yeah, and I guess Michael Crichton is just sick about it…
Rabbit Is Dead.
slavojzizek: Well that just show that DFW was a mercenary tool then. And not a bright one at that. The firsts would increase if he won the Nobel and really only the early works. He had a good print run later on. DFW shoulda known that, and he should have known that there have been loads o’ collectible authors big in their lifetimes and not after death. Kinda like DFW, come to think of it.
I always got him confused with Upton Sinclair. My bad.
Theodorick Of York:
I have a theory that Michael Crichton left this moral coil specifically to avoid learning what a load of horse hockey State of Fear really is.
Karl Rove got suppe…subpee…spub.. John Conyers angry.
skyinator:
Upton Sinclair is buried in Rock Creek Cemetary, the one with an actual DC connection.
His real name was Updike? You’re making that up!
skyinator: I always got Upton Sinclair confused with Sinclair Lewis, so, yeah, your bad.
But Updike’s character, Van Horne, in The Witches of Eastwick. That makes it important DC news. Nowait, that would be AD/DC news.
OK, I think I sprained something reaching for that pun.
I meant that Van Horne is bisexual. My sentence also collapsed in the reach. Oops.
Theodorick Of York: Hehehe, and Andrew Sulllivan just puked…um, no, forget I said that. And STOP demanding Sully’s medical records. He has a right to privacy (the English kind that sounds like privy).
Come here a minute: Ditto. Although you can complete the circle by confusing the author of Babbitt with the writer of Rabbit.
SayItWithWookies: Lit Fans Bid Up Adieu
masterdebater: Silly, that was his nom de ghey. His real name was Downhetero.
Updike’s literary executor has so far been tight-lipped regarding plans for the disposition of the author’s phallus.
oh noes! what will the new yorker do now in their fiction section? more Sedaris?
http://www.charlietueats.com
Come here a minute: wheelie: or, Sinclair Lewis = Sherry Lewis = Lambchop = Rabbit = VW = George W. = everything is and always will be, his fault. (My mind was a terrible thing to waste). My apologies.
Wonderful. Now I’m suffering from depression.
DoktorZoom: Sent to the Bush library?
Heh. Sorry.
On the happier side, Henry the Tuatara’s eggs have finally hatched. I would link to the post, but believe it or not, Wonkette doesn’t have a single “tuatara” tag. I swear SKS had a post about him, though.
loudmouthredhead:
That make’s much more sense. My wife once tried to tell me there was an author, that wasn’t a porn writer, named Shakespeare. Right, like I believed her.
slavojzizek: Tommy Says Soooo: No, that was noted fabulist Augusten Burroughs.
I thought this was John Irving. Luckily I know enough about Irvine Welsh that when Irving does die, the cycle of confusion will end for me.
Yay, I just moved up a notch on the waitlist at Myopia!
Somehow, I’m pretty sure, this is W’s fault.
loudmouthredhead: Updike. Hehehehehe.
SayItWithWookies: No, Rabbit has to be followed by another ‘R’ word to be a true Updike title. Maybe if the bury him, dig him up, and then bury him again, we can use ‘Rabbit is Re-interred’.
Cape Clod: Rabbit ReAnimated, and then Bruce Campbell can be in it.
Cape Clod: But dig soon, while Rabbitt is still Redolent…
Sorry, ‘Rabbitt is Rotting.’
Rabbit Hawk?
I for one will be dancing on his grave. Plain vanilla suburban glorifying plain vanilla suburban living. Yecch. Only slightly amusing thing he ever did was the Bech series — had to write about Jews to be even remotely interesting.
Dead?!? I didn’t even know he was sick!
I tried to read one of his books. The first Rabbit book. Got about fitty pages in & quit. That is the sum total of my John Updike experience. It is sad when a literary giant dies, even if I didn’t rate him, because there will probably be no more literary giants, seeing as how the latest generation of young folk have the attention span of Ted Haggard watching straight porn. Even big time serious authors these days don’t get much in the way of sales. They win prizes, but it’s the Crichton kind of crap that sells, or Cornwall, or whatever. Thankfully I have switched almost full time to history, apart from Alan Furst. Historical thrillers set in 1930s Europe cannot be beat, when done well. Goodbye Rabbit guy.