I've got about 20 pages left in Marilynne Robinson's absolutely sublime Gilead, which is the best contemporary novel I've read since I don't know when. It's not only beautifully written, but it's complex and graceful in the way that only the greatest art is. No surprise that the latest crap by Roth, Updike, and Joyce Carol Oates made the list. I haven't read the Roth book, but the recent reviews are way too thrilled about what seems like a sophmoric idea. I predict a backlash after it wins the Pulitzer. I'm sure I already read Updike's book when it was given a different title and published in 1960, then 1964, then 1969, then 1971 . . . A reviewer once wrote of Oates that she is "always competent but only rarely inspired." She doesn't strike me as prolific so much as indifferent.
No mention of the book of the year? http://www.cnn.com/2004/SHOWBIZ/books/12/06/books.jonstewart.ap/index.html