The Afterlife and Other Stories

Starred review from October 24, 1994
As Updike himself edges into his 60s, so do the narrators and protagonists of most of these 22 beautifully crafted stories, all of them meticulously honest and gracefully ironic. ``In the winter of their lives,'' most of these aging men have been married more than once-adultery is endemic in their social sphere (sophisticated communities up and down the Eastern seaboard). They have not achieved the happiness they expected, however, and they have reason to think back wistfully to the women they first married, when life seemed full of promise-especially since their second and third wives carry a ``weight of anger'' and resentment, augmented by feminism. These men are chillingly aware that even intimate connections prove superficial; the protagonist of ``Grandparenting'' perceives that ``nobody belongs to us, except in memory.'' Sometimes insight is healing: in two stories concerning George, a beset older man married to Vivian, a contentious woman 20 years his junior, George achieves the serenity of acceptance: ``his used old heart cracked open and peace entered.'' And in two of the most powerful tales, the title story and ``Baby's First Steps,'' a minor accident gives a man a glimpse of his mortality, yet existence is henceforth tinged with sudden magic. The relationships between sons and mothers-elderly, dying, dead-fuel many of these tales, which are rendered with a brave candor. Inspired whimsy and a touch of the supernatural invest a standout story, ``Farrell's Caddie,'' and ``Cruise'' is a modern-day Greek myth cloaked with wit. This volume marks the 42nd of Updike's books to be published by Knopf; one looks forward to the changing perspective (though not changing themes) that each decade brings to this masterful writer's work. BOMC and QPB club alternates.

This bittersweet collection of five stories touches upon many themes common to Updike's work--old age, marriage partners comfortable with their tired roles, and the fragility and imprecision of dreams. These stories fade quickly from mind due, in large part, to Updike's earnest, but dry, narrative style, which robs them of any color or vitality. Another problem is the lack of differentiation among the characters' voices; this becomes especially apparent when a man and a woman converse. Also, Updike cannot do accents--an egregious problem in "Farrells' Caddie." These stories may be better read than heard. E.E.L. (c)AudioFile, Portland, Maine