Sad news via the NYT:
John Updike, the kaleidoscopically gifted writer whose quartet of Rabbit Angstrom novels highlighted so vast and protean a body of fiction, verse, essays and criticism as to earn him comparisons with Henry James and Edmund Wilson among American men of letters, died today at a hospice outside Boston. He was 76 and lived in Beverly Farms, Mass.
The cause was cancer, according to a statement by Alfred A. Knopf, his publisher.
I usually feature this sort of stuff, because I consider myself a writer. Anytime that writer dies, that world becomes a darker place.
May he rest in peace.
His works:
Amazon.com: The Widows of Eastwick
Amazon.com: Due Considerations
Amazon.com: Terrorist