The Poems of John Updike

The Poems of John Updike Analysis

Mention the greatest American short story writers of the 20th century and John Updike is going to be right in the middle of the discourse. Debate about the greatest American novelists of the 20th century and Updike’s name is certain to get tossed into the mix. Ask about the greatest American poets of the 20th century and a very like response might be something along the lines of “I didn’t know Updike wrote poems.” Updike is a titanic figure in the literary history of 20th century America, but his status as a poet is not quite equitable with where he is sits on the prose spectrum. But, hey, even Michael Jordan was only able to be a star in one sport. It may be asking too much for Updike to be granted the same superstar status in poetry and he is awarded in prose. Or, then again, maybe Updike is only better than most regular people at writing poetry the same way Jordan turned out to be only better than most regular folk when playing baseball.

Updike’s true status and placement on the spectrum of 20th century American poets was never really going to be determined for sure until long after his death. The same holds true for his status as a writer of novels and short stories though at least got to enjoy the pleasure of being highly considered during his life time. Where his reputation will be a century down the road is anybody’s guess. After all, remember, that when Herman Melville died he was already a mostly forgotten has-been. More than a century later and Moby-Dick remains the Great American Novel by which all others are compared while authors far more celebrated during have been completely forgotten. Still, a betting man would almost certainly place his week’s wages on the statistical probability that a century from now Updike will still be regarded more highly as a novelist and short story writer than as a poetry. But nobody ever got rich by betting on sure thing.

The long shot here is that the appreciation for Updike’s poetry will never surpass the appreciation for his prose. That is one long shot payoff perhaps worth taking the chance on. The year 2060 is not far away from the here and now, but by the time it arrives, it is going to make 1960 look closer to 1860. The history of a time and place is not just capture in history books. If one really wants to get a feel for what middle-class suburban existence was really like around the middle of the 20th century one might do better to forego the textbooks and read the works of Updike. But, really, who will have to go through all that prose.

One can cut the word count by ninety-percent and increase the titles exponentially by reading Updike’s poetry and get just as precise a portrait of what that middle class existence was like simply be picking up a volume or two of his poetry. Updike’s verse is the history of a certain milieu in a certain period of American history in miniature. By reading these poems, one gets a very distinct feeling for the people and the times. There is the speaker in “Tools” for instance who wonders how toolmakers can possibly make a profit when their products last so long, like the claw hammer he’s used for four decades without needing to replace. Not even a hundred years later and in this age of instant disposability, this guy already seems like a relic from a far more distant past.

In that respect, he is not too different from the speaker in “One Tough Keratosis” who is distraught over the state of his hands after being exposed, unprotected, to the ravages of the sun on golf courses. Here is a precise portrait of American life before we all learned exactly what SPF number offers the perfect protection against developing skin cancer later in life. Various other poems of Updike focusing on playing golf and playing bridge and playing tennis and swimming reveal that the history of this time was one of much greater physical activity than the America of the early millennium.

This is the significance of Updike as a poet. His strength is not in experimentation with form, nor will he ever be in danger of his style subverting his content. With Updike, content is everything. And the content of his poetry is nothing more or less than an accomplishment which brings to vivid and visceral life all the mundane details about a time and place that historians salivate over finding in some journal that lay hidden in an attic for centuries.

In other words, Updike’s poetry does all the things that his novels and short stories do, but with a premium placed on efficiency. In the time it takes to read just one of the Rabbit novels or make your way through his ten best short stories, one can zoom through a hundred poems that provide just as much texture about the times. Betting that Updike’s poetry will one day outshine his prose is definitely not a wager to be made for the person who likes a sure thing, but in a society that is constantly looking to reduce the amount of time it takes to get as much information as possible, it is a long shot worth considering.

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