The Thumbnail Book Reviews
by John Q McDonald --- 2 September 2015
by John Updike
We saw them around the Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco in the early 1980s. They wore orange robes with a beaded pendant portraying a little gray-haired guru. Later, their robes were deep red, burgundy and lavender. And by then, they had tried to build a city in northern Oregon, Rajneeshpuram. There were hundreds, sometimes thousands of these spiritual searchers, followers of Bagwan Shree Rajneesh, an Indian guru given to driving a few dozen Rolls Royces and wearing heavy jewels paid for by the donations from the savings of many of his followers. It reads like a lot of the cults we hear about. It reads like a lot of the Christian ministries and televangelical money launderers who thrive to this day. Rajneeshpuram might have succeeded in the long term if not for their urge to grow, to build a city. They ran into stiff opposition in rural Oregon, displayed their own paranoia and strange conspiracies (one leader attempted to poison voters by contaminating salad bars), and ultimately collapsed under multiple investigations by the local and federal governments. By the early 90s, the commune had dried up and blown away (and yet the Christian televangelists thrive on their saucer-eyed believers and donors). Rajneesh was deported to India, where he changed his name to Osho and died five years later. Osho's movement survives, if with a lower profile, to this day.
But, back in the 1980s, they made a significant splash in the media. This 1988 novel borrows heavily from the story of the Rajneesh and his followers. Many details are lifted from the news and only barely disguised. Our protagonist is S., Sarah Worth, New England middle-class mother and wife, who finally abandons her husband to go live on a commune set up outside of Forrest, Arizona. The book is made up of her letters, those to her husband, daughter, mother and her friends. There are transcripts of tapes, narrated letters, and bits of overheard conversation and other (ahem) encounters. And there are notes to lawyers, bankers, dentists and doctors. We read of Sarah's desire to transcend a normal existence, to escape the middle-class blandness of her husband's life. She is an earnest seeker, but we detect that something else is going on behind the scenes. Are these letters to a Swiss bank in service of the commune only?
Updike was often criticized for the very male perspective of his novels, that the women characters were thin or poorly understood. In this light, we should ask ourselves to what extent we can really expect a male author to really get inside the head of a woman's way of thinking. Updike here makes a rather audacious attempt at writing purely from the woman's perspective. She is a strong character, determined to actualize her independence. On the other hand, her letters to home are full of nitpicking details and advice, a nagging that seems contrary to the enlightenment she seeks at the commune. Updike brings her to life, but doesn't quite reach the level of understanding that would make S. a fully realized female character. Perhaps some women may disagree with this assessment. Perhaps it is unfair to critique the book solely on this aspect, but we do know that Updike was in this book (and, more particularly The Witches of Eastwick) attempting to realize a believable woman protagonist. The book is satirical and quite funny at times. There is a subtle nod to the absurdity of the religious movement at its core, and the human potential movement that was, perhaps, starting to fizzle in the late eighties. Ultimately, Updike's tale veers more widely from the facts of the Rajneesh commune. Sarah's quest for independence takes her beyond dependence on her guru, and, in a way, back to where she started.
Also by Updike:
[Rabbit, Run]
[Rabbit Redux]
[Rabbit is Rich]
[Rabbit at Rest]
[Licks of Love]
[The Centaur]
[The Poorhouse Fair]
[Toward the End of Time]
[The Witches of Eastwick]
[Of the Farm]
[Just Looking]
[Still Looking]
See also: [Updike, by Adam Begley]