I loved the movie so much that I decided to read the book thinking that the books are normally better than the movie, so I thought the book would be awesome, unfortunately I was sadly disappointed. The book is very different from the movie and I felt that the supernatural aspect was somewhat lacking. The way the characters are portrayed in the book are not only physcially different than that of the movie, but also emotionally different. The 3 withces are mean and spiteful and the book seems to drag on about their boring lives. The book also mentions nothing of Darryl Van Horne being the devil and his character is somewhat lacking to say the least. I think I was totally spoiled by the movie because Cher, Pheiffer, Sarandon, and Nicholson brings alot more life to the characters than the book did.

As other reviewers note, Updike does spend a lot of time on details; that is what I love about this book. The little details make the book real to me, then Updike throws something so tiny yet unbelievable (Sukie turns milk into cream for her coffee) into the mix. That just knocks my socks off! Of course there is plenty of Updike's neurosis about adultery, his conflict about God and religion, commentary on bourgeois mores. I just love his decriptions of the Lenox mansion, the insufferable wives of the witches' lovers, their spells made up of household items. I love how he describes Alexandra's Algerian brocade jacket and Sukie's suede skirt. The characters seem like so many of my mom's friends when I was growing up - women without husbands sort of befriending each other (divorcees and widows are a threat to married women). I don't have any scholarly discussion to add - it's been done here already. Just wanted to chime in about how much I love this book.

I loved the movie. That's why I bought the book. The movie is fantastic, the book is disappointing. I will not be reading any other books by Updike. He is verbose, slow to read and wanders of tangents.

I was attracted to Updike's novel purely by its title and was expecting either an historical novel derived from America's fear and fascination of witchcraft in the era of the Salem witch trials or perhaps a look at contemporary Wiccans or maybe something along the lines of Marion Zimmer Bradley's MISTS OF AVALON. What I found was none of these but rather a psychological exploration of several very unbelievable characters interacting in aberrant and contrived relationships. Two aspects of Updike's novel leave me cold-his unrealistic description of witchcraft and his horribly exaggerated similes which torture the English language.

Updike's witches are neurotic, conflicted women who vacillate between lesbian relationships with one another and seducing all the men in town, especially married men. Their manner of witchcraft is neither historically accurate nor even remotely descriptive of the actual practice of Wicca today, encompassing such ridiculous things as manipulating the nature of a tennis ball to foil their opponents and such purely evil things as killing crabs, pets, and another woman of whom they become jealous. To use one's power to summon a thunderstorm for the simple reason that other people are on a beach where Alexandra wants to run her dog is purely ludicrous. Very little of the witchcraft being practiced in the novel is believable, even in a fictional realm. Oh yes, there's also the practice of having tacks, moths, straw, bird feathers, and suchlike materialize in the mouths of women who annoy our witch friends. This naturally brings to mind the backfired slug spell that Ron Weasley attempts to cast on Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Somehow, though, it's much more believable in the realm of Harry Potter than in Updike's "serious" novel.

If Updike's concept of magic is less than believable, his comprehension of effective writing is yet worse. Several pages of THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK could easily win a Bulwer-Lytton fiction contest, a competition that challenges entrants to compose the opening sentence of the worst of all possible novels. Updike's descriptive similes are so extravagant as to be unintentionally hilarious. I thought at first that he was writing tongue-in-cheek in those frequent cases, poking fun at pompous authors, yet I fear that he may himself be one of those pompous writers at whom fun really should be poked. For example:

"But even as it drifted, her mind, like a passenger in an airplane who amidst the life-imperiling sensations of lifting off looks down to marvel at the enameled precision and glory of the Earth (the houses with their roofs and chimneys so sharp, so finely made, and the lakes truly mirrors as in the Christmas yards our parents had arranged while we were sleeping; it was all true, and even maps are true!), took note of how lovely Sukie was, bad luck or not, with her vivid hair disheveled and even her eyelashes looking a little mussed after her hard day of typing and looking for the right word under the harsh lights, her figure in its milky-green sweater and dark suede skirt so erect and firm, her stomach flat and her breasts perky and high and her bottom firm, and that big broad-lipped mouth on her monkeyish face so mischievous and giving and brave." I had marked many other examples of such flatulent writing, but if this one doesn't make the point, then nothing will.

Before winding up these observations, I do feel some need to comment on the triteness in Updike's novel. The idea of having, specifically, three witches is hardly new. Shakespeare used that figure in MACBETH, and most readers will recognize the use of the number three in Christian mythology, as in the Holy Trinity, God-in-three-persons, etc. The character of Darryl van Horne is a stereotypical portrayal of a homosexual male taken to extremes. Using such worn-out and exaggerated symbolism is not the mark of a distinguished a

When I finally got around to reading the novel the movie *CLAIMS* to be based on I was at first confused and then utterly delighted. The book is far more interesting, with more believable characters, a plot that actually seems to make sense, and is an honest and often, disgusting look at life in a small puritanical town. The witches have nothing in common with one another aside from their witchery, their lack of husbands, and their own art related station in life. Alexandra, blonde and overweight, Jane with dark hair and a mannish figure and Sukie, a brazen redhead (The characters were horribly changed in the movie version) are not the nice, fascinating, sympathetic characters played by Cher, Susan Sarandon, and Michelle Pfeiffer in the movie version. There is rampant disregard for human, animal, or plant life. The witches, each a feminist in her own right, are their most vicious toward other women. They are disgustingly homophobic, seeing the few gay characters as competition. Updike definitely has issues with sexuality. Alex and Sukie dancing naked together to Janis Joplin, bemoaning the curse of heterosexuality that keeps them apart???? Uhm...okay! But I do love this book. The witches, though not nice ladies, are merely showing an accurate portrayal of many women of their time. And Daryl Van Horne running away with the son of Felicia and Clyde in the end...is priceless!