John updike had the distinction of being reviewed early and often. It may be debated whether that was good or bad for a budding writer feeling his way through multiple genres to discover his voice and his message. It seems likely, however, that early notices of The Poorhouse Fair and Rabbit, Run made Updike realize he had chosen the right profession. It may also have convinced Knopf to continue as his publisher— no mean feat, when so many aspiring writers who land a contract with a major publisher discover to their chagrin that poor sales of a first book ends that relationship quickly. Early recognition no doubt affected what Updike chose to write and publish, especially as critics expressed growing dissatisfaction with what might be called the preciousness of his work. For a decade, reviewers urged him to be less myopic, introspective, and autobiographical, encouraging him instead to engage with major social issues. One might call the first ten years of Updike criticism the “decade of promise and anticipation”—promise generated by a style that even Updike's harshest critics recognized as special, anticipation generated by the hope that he would finally publish a novel whose subject would be worthy of his great facility with language.