Here's a story: I had a copy of Rabbit, Run that I was reading along with a couple other Updike novels, for my high school senior English class. The Christmas break paper was on sex, art, and religion in Updike, and it was famously a chewy one to write. My father pitched a fit about the contents of the novel-- a fit that mysteriously evaporated when my mother quietly informed him that I was reading her copy of the book.
Time to re-read "Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu".
