Leaf Season by John Updike, 1986
The magic trick:
Reveling in a very long, very slow, overly detailed, self-enclosed story and trusting that its merits are so strong they will shine through
We’re doing a full seven-day week of Updike stories on the website.
We begin with maybe the quintessential Updike story for me. It’s far from his best. I’d imagine some might even have an argument for it as one of his worst. It’s a long and rambling beat-by-beat story of a bunch of middle-aged privileged folk hanging out together for a weekend at a New England farm with their kids. Updike’s narrator leers at the women and judges everyone’s bodies, including the children. He’s really right in his comfort zone here.
All of it makes you wonder if you should maybe just put the book down and get on with your day.
But I didn’t. I kept reading. And I’m glad I did. There is a reason there are so many John Updike stories on this website. He’s very good, and I do enjoy his writing very much.
So in this story, you basically get a vibe of zero self-awareness from the author. All those things I mentioned as potential offenses – the total disinterest in plot or entertainment for the reader, the relentless focus on moment-to-moment detail, the lack of even considering the potential need to check his protagonists’ privilege, and even the male gaze judgments of our narrator – Updike just doesn’t care.
He’s going to write this story the way he wants to write it. And in the end? All of those qualities coalesce into something surprisingly moving. It all winds up playing like a forced attempt at fun, at manliness, at youth.
I don’t know why – but it works!
And that’s quite a trick on Updike’s part.
The selection:
The host is under the house! All afternoon, Ralph lies on the cold ground beneath the kitchen wing, wrapping yellow fiberglass insulation around his pipes. Already there have been frosts, and last winter, when the Tremaynes were renting to skiers, the pipes froze and the people moved to a motel and later sued. He keeps the cigar in his mouth while stretched out grunting in the crawlspace; Bill Maloney hopes aloud to Andy Tyler that there is no gas leak under the kitchen. Both men – Bill burly and placid, Andy skinny and slightly over-excited – hang there as if to be helpful, now and then passing more insulation, or another roll of duct tape, in to their supine host. Josh Neusner is splitting his weight in wood, an unfamiliar and thus to him somewhat romantic task. The romance intensifies whenever the splitting maul bounces from an especially awkward piece of wood and digs deep into the earth inches from his feet.
As always, join the conversation in the comments section below, on SSMT Facebook or on Twitter @ShortStoryMT.
Subscribe to the Short Story Magic Tricks Monthly Newsletter to get the latest short story news, contests and fun.
Short Story Magic Tricks 