John Irving's latest novel, Queen Esther, fails to live up to the author's own towering achievements with The Cider House Rules. 
Irving, whose string of successes in the 1970s and 1980s was marked by thought-provoking explorations of social issues like feminism, abortion, and belonging, has found himself stuck in a rut. His latest effort, Queen Esther, is a meandering tale that neglects its central character's Jewish heritage and instead follows the story of Jimmy Winslow, Esther's son.
While Irving's earlier works often tackled complex subjects with wit and empathy, Queen Esther resorts to his familiar but now tiresome tropes: wrestling, Vienna, and writers' angst. The result is a narrative that feels shallow and disjointed, with underdeveloped secondary characters and set pieces that lack the impact of their predecessors.
One of Irving's hallmarks – his tendency to foreshadow plot developments and then deliver them in long, dramatic scenes – falls flat here. A major character loses an arm, only to have it come back 30 pages from now, leaving readers scratching their heads. Esther herself appears late in the novel, only to resolve a few threads before everything wraps up neatly.
This is no small disappointment for an author who has captivated audiences with works like The Cider House Rules, which remains a masterpiece of storytelling and empathy even four decades after its release. That novel's nuanced exploration of abortion, belonging, and identity set the bar high for Irving's subsequent efforts, and Queen Esther fails to meet it.
If you're looking for a John Irving experience that will leave you in awe, revisit The Cider House Rules instead. It may be twice as long as Queen Esther, but its impact is 12 times greater.
				
			Irving, whose string of successes in the 1970s and 1980s was marked by thought-provoking explorations of social issues like feminism, abortion, and belonging, has found himself stuck in a rut. His latest effort, Queen Esther, is a meandering tale that neglects its central character's Jewish heritage and instead follows the story of Jimmy Winslow, Esther's son.
While Irving's earlier works often tackled complex subjects with wit and empathy, Queen Esther resorts to his familiar but now tiresome tropes: wrestling, Vienna, and writers' angst. The result is a narrative that feels shallow and disjointed, with underdeveloped secondary characters and set pieces that lack the impact of their predecessors.
One of Irving's hallmarks – his tendency to foreshadow plot developments and then deliver them in long, dramatic scenes – falls flat here. A major character loses an arm, only to have it come back 30 pages from now, leaving readers scratching their heads. Esther herself appears late in the novel, only to resolve a few threads before everything wraps up neatly.
This is no small disappointment for an author who has captivated audiences with works like The Cider House Rules, which remains a masterpiece of storytelling and empathy even four decades after its release. That novel's nuanced exploration of abortion, belonging, and identity set the bar high for Irving's subsequent efforts, and Queen Esther fails to meet it.
If you're looking for a John Irving experience that will leave you in awe, revisit The Cider House Rules instead. It may be twice as long as Queen Esther, but its impact is 12 times greater.