Rabbit in a World of Cultural Dissidence

At the center of John Updike's Rabbit books is singularly Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom. The novel revolves around him and does not condescend, pity, or cast a stern eye upon him for his various misconduct. Neither does it condone what he does. Rather, Updike merely considers Rabbit without passing judgment, and in his contemplation of this egotistic man, he is doing what Rabbit wants, that is, placing him at the center of the world. Whether or not he approves of what Rabbit does isn't really the point, nor does it matter if we do. Updike is at the beckon of Rabbit, having made him the star in a character study spanning four novels, and four decades of American life, and whether you like Mr. Harry Angstrom or despise him, you are irregardless along for the ride.

If Rabbit's actions in the last novel didn't make you raise your eye, what he does in Rabbit Redux certainly will. In this sequel to the first novel, Harry "Rabbit" Angstrom has taken a job at the same factory as his father, has settled down to raise his only child, Nelson (this may come as a spoiler for any readers who have yet to read the first novel, but at the end of Rabbit, Run, Janice, Rabbit's wife, accidentally drowned their newborn baby girl in the bathtub.), and enter the role of the workingman. However, normalcy has not finally come to the Angstrom household, for Janice is now the one having an affair with a co-worker at Springer Motors (the company that is run by her father, Fred Springer) by the name of Charlie Stavros. Even though Janice did not hold him guilty for very long about Rabbit's affair with Ruth Leonard, Rabbit turns on her when he discovers her infidelity, and Janice ends up moving out to live with her lover. Rabbit is home alone with his son Nelson, and for awhile things remain that way, until a black co-worker invites Rabbit to come along to a bar. Despite having such racial reserves (Rabbit is unconsciously racist), he agrees, and though he contemplates ducking out, Rabbit comes with him to the bar, and winds up being one of the only white people there. He is seated in a booth with a few of the co-worker's friends, one of them being an aging black woman who sings beautifully, and the other, more importantly, a black pimp named Skeeter Ulrich. Eventually throughout the evening, Rabbit takes his first toke of pot, and somehow beyond his understanding, winds up bringing home with him a young white runaway named Jill. Though initially platonic, after a single day, Rabbit is unable to resist his lust, and winds up bedding the girl. His son Nelson, age twelve, isn't overly surprised at Jill being there, and even befriends her in a relationship that's unclear about whether any romance is involved, but irregardless, Nelson begins feeling very protective of the young girl. Jill herself is a hippy who has cast a dark eye upon her former life as a rich kid born into wealth, and adopted a life of free love, drug experimentation, and radical philosophy.

If this development isn't strange enough, the Angstroms are soon joined by another border, Skeet Ulrich, the black pimp. Ulrich comes and introduces the casual use of pot, free love among the new family (whether or not Nelson is included is never made clear), and evening readings of Frederick Douglass, during which Skeet seems near the point of orgasm upon hearing about the resistance and defiance of Douglass. Meanwhile, family, neighbors, and Rabbit's wife all hear about him taking up with a young girl and a Negro, and are justifiably surprised. What happens next in the novel is clearly explained, yet remains murky concerning motive and every other aspect of the plotline.

This second part of the Rabbit tetralogy is by far the murkiest, with many different plot elements being unexplained, and many questions left to answer. It is inevitable that Janice and Rabbit will get back together in the end, but when it happens, it occurs in a totally unexpected way. Everything about this novel, in fact, is in a long line of confusion. When one of the characters dies, the details are partially clouded over by a haze of unknowing, as are all the major events in the novel, such as the relationship between father and son, the relationship between husband and wife, and the two symbolic characters of Jill and Skeeter. This is, at heart, a very confusing book.

And yet there is a motive to the madness. This part of the Rabbit books is simply following the guidelines established by the first novel, which insist that the plot is all about Rabbit, and that all other characters are secondary. It is obvious that Rabbit does not care enough about the death of the person, the state of his marriage, and all other developments to really truly try and follow them. The book rarely leaves the perspective of Rabbit, and thus, everything that occurs is in the background. Some say this makes the book flawed, and yet it covers the mood of the time perfectly. In 1971, the Vietnam war was raging out of control, the nation was unglued and coming apart at the seams, and the countercultural movements were beginning to create doubt as to what it meant to truly be an American at the beginning of a new era. For many people, in fact, most people, all of it remained rather confusing, and none of that confusion was alleviated with time, which is exactly the case with Rabbit Redux. Even now in 2004, many aspects of it remain murky, but that is because of the time it was written in. The work is an important pinnacle of the Rabbit tetralogy in that it captures the mood of a decade, and thereby manages to commingle perfectly with the next two Rabbit books, which focus far more extensively on the times during which they were written.

Rabbit Redux is important to the Rabbit series in that it serves as a transition from character study to a study of an era, but in each different case, there is that one singular constant: Rabbit Angstrom, himself. He is the heart of the series, and even though the mood of the books varies widely from each of the four, it is irregardless all on the same wavelength thanks to this one conceited character. In order to approach the two Pulitzer Prize-winning novels, Rabbit is Rich and Rabbit at Rest, it is important to reach both this novel and Rabbit, Run. They may not have received the accolades of the final two novels, but they are integral in reading those two. They also happen to be enthralling fiction that offer a limited, though vexing nevertheless, envisioning of two widely different time periods.

Rabbit Redux is an excellent read well worth any effort on part of the reader. Another classic from John Updike.