Modern readers might not understand the protagonist Harry Armstrong (or his author), but what John Updike has done was paint an accurate portrait of many middle-aged Americans who lived through the 1980s — often white men who didn't live up to their potential but still managed to obtain some semblance of success anyway (but not purpose) — during the nation's most quietly transformative years. In doing so, Updike leaves readers feeling cathartic, watching helplessly as Harry "Rabbit" Armstrong overeats, demonstrates a lack of empathy, and slowly relinquishes all that remains of his dignity. There is no hero here, nor is there an anti-hero.

Updike unceremoniously lays out many of the questions people face when approaching middle age or retirement (as Harry retires early by today's standards). What did the first 55 years mean? What is there to look forward to, if anything? How much responsibility must one have for their adult children (without being overbearing)? What does it mean to be the head of the household in a world where men were suddenly no longer the head of the household? And on. And on.

Harry faces all of these questions without any answers. Updike leaves that up to the reader too, which is why so many people see Harry as selfish. He isn't. He is mentally and emotionally castrated — a condition established a long time ago in book one. He is dissatisfied with the constraints imposed on him by his family, mortality, and the era, but isn't equipped to do anything about it. So he turns to the places he can find comfort — snacky foods, illicit affairs, one of two grandchildren, the continued idolization of his sister, and basketball.

That doesn't mean Harry's judgments are right or fair or deserve our sympathy. Updike certainly doesn't make him a hero. But once someone reaches the same age as the character (as opposed to being younger than the character), there is something relatable to the best of Harry, if not the worst of him. Most people make choices in the moment without concern for consequences. And the older they get, the harder it is to undo those that become habits.

Rabbit at Rest completes the Rabbit tetralogy, one of my favorite series in literary fiction. While other books had different themes and motifs, this one is about past consequences, lack of purpose, and the diminishing choices everyone must face as they age. It won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1991.