text: John Updike's literary criticism is perceptive and sparely written - every one of his non-fiction collections is worth reading.  But his novels have, from the very first, been precious, over-written and stifling in their desperate need for approbation.  When he writes fiction, he's like a dog doing tricks for reward.
  
  And certainly, the rewards have come.  But for readers outside the US at least, it's all a little mystifying.  John Cheever was a far better writer, yet his work seems somehow to be regarded by Americans as the lesser canon.  Time will correct this mistake, no doubt, but in the meantime Updike pours out ever more cloying and over-heated work like this.
  
  If I still have your attention, let me recommend the 'Collected Stories' of John Cheever.  Updike could only dream of writing prose like that. 
  