Rabbit, Run redux

I recently finished re-reading Rabbit, Run by John Updike, which I first read at age 20 or so (after interviewing Updike, I felt I really should read some of his books, which was probably the opposite of how I should have done it).

So now that I'm a lot older, and it struck me how young Rabbit was, and how young Updike was. The prose is a lot flashier, the sex a lot more euphemistic and flashier too. I found Rabbit even more unsympathetic: perhaps because now, I could understand his choice about family, and realize what a shmuck he was about it. But it was a compelling portrait of a young man coming to grips with the reality of growing up. Is he redeemed? Perhaps. Rabbit, Redux may tell me.