I haven't read any Updike, but after this post of yours I think I will. By the way, it's not just him who's a skilled wordsmith. I particularly like these verbal gems:

So it's not the slow pace that gets to me. It's that the little that does happen is just so dark and dismal, so easily avoidable, so frankly reprehensible, that I start to understand the recent condemnation of these novels.

and of course this:

So, yeah, maybe I hate Harry because he so closely resembles the disposable father-figures my serial monogamist mother cycled us through. Three kids with three men? Why not! Groovy. Do what you feel!

and this whole paragraph:

I hate his lazy, fat, peaked-in-high-school-athletics American complacency. I hate his idiotic lustful simplicity. I hate his smug, self-assured, swaggering confidence. I hate the way, in the later novels, he steps into the upper middle class through inheritance, joins the country-club set, and turns into the kind of entitled motherfucker that makes life miserable for anyone who works in retail or the service industry. I hate his casual spirituality, his confidence that while he may not know anything about religion, by golly he just feels that God put something out there and wants him to find it.

In any case, it's great to see how others appreciate colorful expressions, and get inspired by them to express themselves in colorful ways. So even if I don't read Updike, I know I'll find the same in your blog. :-)