It is probably the worst of John Updike. "The terrorist" is his last novel, about the breeding of a muslim terrorist at the very core of american middle class. The idea is great, there is enough material in the media to support and fuel the theme, but the actual book lacks art. If we define Art as the human act of creating new objects to portrait human feelings, Updike hit water this time. Many clichés are tirelessly presented during the plot. The terrorist to be comes from a shattered home, raised by a single mother, nurse, and frustrated artist. A character that was created as a survivor of the 70´s crazy years. She can´t give any emotional education to his kid, being herself a soul in need of emotional male support. Her sexual adventures create in his son a rage, only finding relief in a strict system of rules and regulations, such as american projected Islamism. Not the real Islamism, but the perception that the american middle class has of it.
There´s also the jewish teacher (highly educated, frustrated, maritally unhappy) as the local heroe. Someone whose guilt leads to the obligation to save the boy from Alah´s tightening hands. A good man, unfairly taken into adultery by his vegetative wife. Herself a fat lady in her early fifties, who´ve seen better years as a wife and woman.
The whole terrorist plot hides itself at a furniture store, perhaps a joke about being inside every american home. Family business as a disguise for anti-american practices.
The boy stands at the center of this world, intelectually very gifted, having to fight his doubt about going to college (
becoming american), or assuming his position as an outcast and attending technical school. His dream of becoming a truck driver is nothing more than his reaction against the status quo. Predictible? To the hilt.
At the end, everything turns out to be only sort of a bad dream, and the world is saved by seconds, like in any James Bond movie.
Let´s stick with the Rabbit novels, just in case.
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