In an interview, Updike once said, "If I had to give anybody one book of me, it would be the Olinger Stories ." These stories were originally published in The New Yorker and then in various collections before Vintage first put them together in one volume in 1964, as a paperback original. They follow the life of one character from the age of ten through manhood, in the small Pennsylvania town of Olinger (pronounced, according to Updike, with a long O and a hard G), which was loosely based on Updike's own hometown. "All the stories draw from the same autobiographical well," Updike explained, "the only child, the small town, the grandparental home, the move in adolescence to a farm." The selection was made and arranged by Updike himself, and was prefaced by a lovely 1,400-word essay by the author that has never been reprinted in full elsewhere until now.
John Hoyer Updike was an American writer. Updike's most famous work is his Rabbit series (Rabbit, Run; Rabbit Redux; Rabbit Is Rich; Rabbit At Rest; and Rabbit Remembered). Rabbit is Rich and Rabbit at Rest both won Pulitzer Prizes for Updike. Describing his subject as "the American small town, Protestant middle class," Updike is well known for his careful craftsmanship and prolific writing, having published 22 novels and more than a dozen short story collections as well as poetry, literary criticism and children's books. Hundreds of his stories, reviews, and poems have appeared in The New Yorker since the 1950s. His works often explore sex, faith, and death, and their inter-relationships.
Just like how Whitney Houston was once every woman, in Olinger Stories John Updike becomes every man. Or every boy on the block, perhaps more accurately.
The stories within, while attributed to fictional characters, rely heavily on the author’s childhood memories and for the sake of fiction, Shillington, Pennsylvania, becomes Olinger, same state. From one story to the next – written years apart, and never in the hopes of being one day conveniently collected like this – John Updike turns into a David, a Ben, a Charlie, someone new entirely, every few pages. He’s eight, or eleven, or maybe fifteen. There’s a recurring grandma figure, always with Parkinson’s disease, who’s never quite the same grandmother either, yet is.
These stories are said by Updike himself to be his favorite. The first fiction he ever sold features in there: regardless of the major novels and other stories that were to follow, “Friends from Philadelphia” forever remained his mother’s most treasured piece, out of all the author’s publications. I would not have guessed that this was his first commercial deal. Nothing sets it apart, good or bad, from the rest.
Except for a few stories towards the end, which centered on an adult what’s-his-name instead of a kid, I can’t say I connected to the odds and ends gathered in Olinger Stories as perfectly as I did with The Maples Stories, just last year, or the farcical adventures of Harry Angstrom and Henry Bech before that.
In a short but inspired foreword that goes a long way in providing context for the stories about to follow, John Updike mentions that his novel The Centaur drew from the same pool of memories as Olinger Stories, that time calling the town not Olinger, but Olympus. It becomes a convenient piece of information, from my perspective: I feel a touch less enthusiastic about either The Centaur or Olinger Stories than the author’s other works and will remember this.
It’s still Updike. The concerns are mostly mortal, the words remain crisp, boys and girls do or don’t get along but whatever the case, their complicated courting sends the mind aflutter. Someone seems too smart for his own good and a gentle smirk never hovers too, too far. I like the author’s voice better on a man than a child; that’s not to say there’s something wrong with the stories, here.
For me the short stories are not stories, it was like peeping through the window and seeing the life of a small region of the Americas in the mid 20th century.
Early in 2025 I was on another one of my digital minimalism kicks and was contemplating not posting to Goodreads. It felt like the site contributed to my viewing books as a list to check off rather that something to enjoy and savor, etc. As I have done for nearly a decade, I failed to truly implement or stick to my commitments and returned to Goodreads. So things are a little fuzzy in terms of when I read what in early 2025. I enjoyed these stories but wasn't wowed by them as I recall.
Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things when I read this book and how many stars I gave it? Probably not but here I am cleaning up my Read list on Goodreads...
I love the eloquence that Updike gives to the everyday, to the common man, to the mundane moments. This collections shows the thread in his work and offers a glimpse into him that reading these separately may not spark.
I always thought of John Updike as a pretentious mid-century staple of Establishment Literature, which isn’t a wholly unfair judgment considering where he was educated and the white male audience he writes for — but I nevertheless bought this book a while ago for $3 because I liked the cover, and finally took it off my bookshelf out of boredom. He’s a guys guy but I admire the way this collection lays out his explorations of familiar, deeply personal themes and settings — the ordinary (albeit one most specific to a white American middle class). Roughly chronological in arrangement based on age of the narrator, its progression feels natural and intimate. The stories are fictional and feature different protagonists but are obviously deeply rooted in his experience. They explore variations among social classes and generations to wrestle with identity and the existence of God (which is, at its core, a search for meaning and against futility). The narration is honest and marked by humility; a striving to understand. Often the writing breaks out into moments of piercing clarity situated within this little world he shows us facets of, and yet which ascend into the universal, hinting at what’s to come and what’s already disappearing (has already disappeared?). The prose is beautiful and for every vivid description there is much he leaves unsaid, not of carelessness but of knowing it’s beyond his capacity to explain. I particularly liked “Alligators” and the two 3-part stories near the end.
Nice collection of Updike short stories set in the area where he came of age. If you like Updike you will find these stories fulfilling... plenty of high school puberty, local color stuff.
These early stories of John Updike were among his favorite and mine too. His voice is authentic as he writes about his early years in Pennsylvania with such beautiful phraseology and spiritual reflections on life. They have the sadness of loss of innocence and early dreams. In "The Happiest I've Been" his final sentence stated how he valued human connection "And there was knowing that twice since midnight a person had trusted me enough to fall asleep beside me." My favorite Updike short story, "Packed Dirt, Churchgoing, A Dying Cat, A Traded Car," he describes churchgoing in the most original way. "Taken purely as recreation, what could be more delightful, more unexpected than to enter a venerable and lavishly scaled building kept warm and clean for use one or two hours a week and to sit and stand in unison and sing and recite creeds and petitions . . ." and "a poorly paid but resplendently robed man strives to console us with scraps of ancient epistles. . ." He talks often of "Pennsylvania knowingness." In "The Blessed Man of Boston,My Grandmother's Thimble, and Fanning Island" he perhaps summarizes why some writers are compelled to write: ". . . that once there was a woman whom one of the continents in one of its terrains caused to exist." In other words, to record that a person existed that had a impact on the writer and he wants the world to know about her. I love these Updike stories that are so reverential about his early life.
Updike's eleven Shillington stories revolve around the idea that, as he put it, "we are rewarded unexpectantly." These minor moments emerging into epiphany are best captured in the short story form, and perhaps find their ideal setting in a small, ordinary Berks County town. A place in which, limited by culture and range of experience, one may still find, in a classmate's laugh, a late night game of ping pong, or a walk home from Reading, cause for illumination.
These stories were beautifully written and the fact that some of them were related throughout the book was both surprising and refreshing. As an introduction to Updike, I was very pleased with his writing style and knack for storytelling. I felt transported to the town and into these peoples' lives.
A collection of beautifully written short stories, set in and around the fictional small town of Olinger, Pennsylvania. Updike at his best - some jewel-like sentences, but not so elaborate as to be indigestible. This Everyman Pocket Classics hardback edition is beautifully printed and bound, as well.
Even in his earlier stories, he has a many, many words to cover small to tiny events with characters who never live and breath, but who do express/endure melancholy, naivety and a sense of wonder amid a whirlwind of clever considerations. (It's catching.)
Absolutely loved it. Recommend it to everyone even though you have to stay away from some of his other stuff. Pigeon Feathers is a must-read short story. I'm definitely going to be looking for more of his clean work.
Favorites: Packed Dirt, Churchgoing, a Dying Cat, a Traded Car; The Blessed Man of Boston, My Grandmother’s Thimble, and Fanning Island; Friends from Philadelphia; Pigeon Feathers; and Flight.
They were written on a manual typewriter and, beginning the the early Sixties, in a one room office I rented in Ipswich (MA), between a lawyer and a beautician, above a cozy corner restaurant. Around noon the smell of food would start to rise above the floor, but I tried to hold out another hour before I tumbled downstairs, dizzy with cigarettes, to order a sandwich. After I gave up cigarettes, I smoked nickel cigarillos to allay my nervousness at the majesty of my calling, and the intricacy of my craft; the empty boxes, with their comforting image of another writer, Robert Burns, piled up. Not only were the boxes useful for storing little things like foreign coins and cufflinks, but the caustic aura of cigars discourage visitors. I felt that I was packaging something as delicately pervasive as smoke, one box after another, in that room, where my only duty was to describe reality as it had come to me - to give the mundane its beautiful due.
So writes John Updike in the introduction of a larger set of short stories, but certainly applicable to the stories collect here, in Olinger Stories. Semi autobiographical, among his first stories accepted for print in The New Yorker, a boy becomes a young man, growing up in an old farmhouse outside bought by his parents. Love, faith, friendship, family members, and death are all covered here. In many ways about the every day of life, but as Updike states, and does here superbly, he 'gives the mundane its beautiful due.'
Long before the film Boyhood began that process of becoming, John Updike wrote the short stories that unite in this book. Published first in The New Yorker, these stories give us glimpses of one who grew up in the fictional town of Olinger and then left for college. Perhaps the most famous of the stories is "Pigeon Feathers," which shows up in anthologies as a coming-of-age story, and yet, other stories, unrelated except for the basic connection with Olinger, draw readers into that peculiar Updikean universe that evolved out of Updike's own family life in Shillngton, Pennsylvania. Stories of note also included are "You'll Never Know, Dear, How Much I Love You," "Packed Dirt, Churchgoing, a Dying Cat, a Traded Car," and "In Football Season." Updike's peculiar eye for detail and well-seasoned wordplay make for a satisfying read.
Each of these stories is really about John Updike leaving his small Pennsylvania hometown. Whether he's a small boy attending a fair, the fifth grade, a high school boy with a crush or a senior playing football each of these stories is about leaving but always looking back. Rabbit, his best character, doesn't appear in these stories because Rabbit never really leaves his small world or his small town.
A nice collection of short stories -- some of them remember life in the post-WWII suburban Pennsylvania while a few others beautifully capture the experiences and pitfalls of adolescence.