Rabbit, Run, by John Updike

 Great writing, but POS main character. Dang, but I hate Rabbit Angstrom. What a sh!t. 

Spoilers, sort of, follow:

What can I say about this book? I don't want to read another Rabbit book ever. But Updike did write Witches of Eastwick. Perhaps that's an Updike I'd like? Rabbit, Run had many of the sentences I hate, those stream of consciousness types. But still I read it. I continued reading it. Because I needed to see if he'd ever redeem himself. A big nope. What a dick. 

Spoiler, what they were, are done.

I've moved on to a Margery Sharp novel. I don't remember where I read about her, I tried to look at all the book blogs I follow, but can't find the original post. I have to thank whomever I read who recommended it, because Something Light starts out great. Check out this wonderful way of describing a character: 

Most men were reciprocally aware of Louisa. If she paid for her rangy height by cheeks thin as a whistling boy's, if her fox-colored hair was turning like an autumn leaf--here a streak of cinnamon, there a dash of pepper--she had nonetheless only to stand still in any public place, at a bus stop or outside a telephone booth, and as to Red Riding Hood up came a wolf (3). 

Is that not perfect? If this book goes well, I'll be looking for my Sharp books on Abe. Thank you, mysterious book blogging stranger!