Peculiar

Inspirada en la leyenda griega de Quirón y Prometeo, a quien aquél cedió su sabiduría y su don de ser inmortal, esta novela no ocurre en el Olimpo, sino en torno a la escuela superior de una pequeña ciudad de Pennsylvania. Quirón, el más sabio de entre los centauros, pasa a ser aquí un profesor de ciencias, quien, antes de los incidentes -y accidentes- que se producen durante tres días de invierno de 1947, procura descifrar los conflictos que le enfrentan a su hijo de quince años -Prometeo-, a quien intenta rescatar de la mediocridad y la apatía. Gracias a la referencia mitológica, el lector revivirá en toda su dureza, pero también en toda su profunda ternura, la tragedia de la agonía del viejo maestro y la iniciación del hijo en la difícil tarea de existir, que transcurren en el escenario de una casi titánica confrontación generacional. La figura del centauro fue creada por John Updike como contrapunto evidente a la figura ya célebre de su personaje Harry «Conejo» Angstrom.

Not my favorite Updike book, but an interesting one. Take his writing style and add some Greek mythology to the mix. This is a modern take on the story of Chiron. There is an index in the back of the book telling you which gods are mentioned, but kind of wish they told you who's who. ( )

This is a sad little book where men want to talk about their feelings but can't for 222 pages and, as a result, nothing happens. I had a hard time believing John Updike had ever met a woman when I read "This sense of danger, of dreadful things he has seen, excites her. Her breasts seem to float on her ribs warmly; she suppresses an instinct to bring her hands to them" (177) but I finished the godforsaken packet of tinder and got to the index, which the author says his wife suggested. This begs the incredible question of what sane woman would decide not only to repeatedly see a man like this but to marry him.
Some may contest my claims of nothing happening in the book with the instances where father and son get stuck in the snow, where they get stuck in a city, where they get stuck in the house of the Hummels, where they get stuck in (literally any other location mentioned in the book). Updike does nothing but create elevator after elevator for his poor characters who, despite being given nothing but opportunities, never come to crisis. Instead of a novel, this is more a list of their individual failures.
While reading this, I read "There’s a New 'It’s Not You, It’s Me' and It’s Still Terrible" by an accident of social media, and found that the author Cat Zhang perfectly stated what is so exhausting in Caldwell's character when she described a dirtbag variety of boyfriend in the late 20teens:

“I can’t be what you need” (ICBWYN, for short, and for fun) seems to function as an emergency brake for panicked individuals in search of an out. It allows them to shrug off relationships before they mean anything. ... When we use ICBWYN against others, we also deny ourselves the ways in which we’re growing; we bar ourselves from the tender possibilities of becoming someone they could need.

This sounds so familiar, a Centaur reader might think to herself. It's Caldwell's refrain, said on pg. 71 to a hitchhiker he and Peter pick up on the way to school: "If ever a kid deserved a break, it's this kid here. My wad is shot. Time to trade in on a new old man; I'm a walking junk heap." This inability to move past personal fault and comparison is what keeps Caldwell from growing during the book; it's his out of each crisis, whether social or emotional. Instead of solving problems, he apologizes. As a result, the reactions of those around him are constantly the same; his stagnation prevents the maturation of his teenage son and any confrontation with his coworkers or students.
The book has enough atypical structure that it may have been innovative at the time. The first chapter, which I read for a class years ago, is decidedly the strongest; Updike blends a literal interpretation of myth with the physical reality of the school. Unfortunately he quickly drops this, the interesting conceit of the book, in favor of exploring new ways for Caldwell to fail, new situations for him to avoid any type of progress or development. The non-chronological structure functions as scaffold for more peering at the deepest disappointments middle age can provide. And the last chapter, an exercise in how to weave misogyny and racism as an undercurrent in narration, is icing on the cake.
So, what did Updike do well? In all the time he saves by not having anything happen, he's able to cultivate a pretty excellent repertoire of setting descriptions. I'd be pleased to visit the towns in this book, but only if I could be guaranteed no one remotely like these characters would be there. ( )

OK....I'll just say it right out of the gate.....OVER MY HEAD. Proving yet again my theory that a major award-winning book does not necessarily a good book make!!!! Come on.....i read for pleasure....and trust me....I'm not bragging here....but i know zilch about mythology!! Zero!!!! SO, I have no idea what the hell was going on here when Caldwell was the Centaur....or the girl's Gym Teacher was Venus! The rest of the story was almost OK.....sort of......book was just full of people i struggled to like.....even Peter the son......tough life....weird father.......sorry about the psoriasis.....but really.....the non-mythology parts were tolerable, but the other stuff just made me feel stupid.....not a great recipe for pleasure reading......This is my 4th or 5th Updike.....and i think i have the remainder of his work on my shelf.....If i proceed....they will be spaced WAY OUT>>>>> ( )