Kirkus Review US:The "U" is John Updike, the 'T' is Baker, the upshot is a narcissistic rumination by an essayist and novelist (The Mezzanine, 1988; Room Temperature, 1990) on his nonrelationship with "the model of the twentieth-century man of letters." It began on August 6, 1989, when Baker, musing on the recent death of Donald Barthelme, realized that one day the shroud would cover an even greater literary hero - John Updike. What to do? Surely now was the time to let the world know how he valued this man. Surely nearly 200 pages of dreams, digressions, puns, self-ridicule, and self-congratulation would please the world, or Updike, or someone. Surely page-long sentences and four-page-long paragraphs would show his admiration. Surely somebody would be glad to learn that Baker "never successfully masturbated to Updike's writing" (although Iris Murdoch's words send him over the edge), or that he dislikes the ideas of Harold Bloom (whom he admits he hasn't much read). What a pity it is - for in this silly sickly sticky mess twinkle many bright nuggets, for instance, that "the metaphorical sense, along with the flea-grooming visual acuity that mainly animates it, fades in importance over most writing careers." Baker can write with great wit and style - the problem is that here he's writing to and for himself. I.O.U. a better book. (Kirkus Reviews)