Now and then even a writer as good as John Updike slips on the proverbial banana skin. The result is a bloated, lopsided yarn such as this in which Updike attempts to tell the story of America in this century, drawing heavily on history and Hollywood and the researcher's notebook. Four long chapters, more like independent novellas, are thrown together in a bid to tell the story of four generations of an American family. Urgency is reduced to mere hastiness in a narrative in which detail is more important than characterisation. Updike has always been good on religion, and for all the physicality of his writing, his tussles with God usually upstage his deliberations on sex. Roger's Version (1986) remains one of his best books about both. Why not read that earlier masterpiece and ignore this hiccup. Trip on a banana skin? looks like the entire tree hit him.
