Click here to view original web page at John Updike On Death, Writing And the Last Words
John Updike’s (March 18, 1932–January 27, 2009) memoirs consist of six discontinuous chapters in lieu of an autobiography, written soon after someone informed him of a “repulsive” plan to write his biography, “to take my life, my lode of ore, my heap of memories from me.” Others would surely explore the writer’s consciousness, but he’d commune with the past and get their first. In the book’s foreword he says that he tried to “to treat this life, this massive datum which happens to be mine, as a specimen life, representative in its odd uniqueness of all the oddly unique lives in this world.” But, “These memoirs feel shabby,” the writer best known for his Rabbit tetralogy writes in Self -Consciousness (1996). “Memory is like the wishing-skin in fairy tales, with its limited number of wishes. His, he writes, has been “used up and wished away in the self-serving corruption […]
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