A review by unmorality
The Centaur by John Updike

3.0

This book is a mixed bag. On the one hand it's all bizarre misogyny and the kind of pretentious, nostalgic musings white dudes think signal depth instead of arrested development. On the other hand, the writing can be absolutely gorgeous and those musings evoke a fascinating, almost hallucinatory tone. The thing that puts me most strongly in this book's corner is its setting. Updike is from Shillington, near Reading PA, the seat of Berks County. I'm from adjacent Montgomery County and I have strong but fraught familial ties to the area. Also, I'm pretty familiar with it. It's really fascinating to read Updike's detailed descriptions of the place when it had industry (as opposed to now when it's unilaterally depressing). Mentions of shoofly pie, Lebanon bologna, and just general Dutchiness (which in the language of the day and even to some extent to this day refers paradoxically to Germanness, specifically Pennsylvania Germanness) makes the book feel kind of soothing to me. I fear this feeling has doomed me to checking out the rest of this man's body of work.