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If some writers have an peak phase, in which they reach the heights repeatedly, then U.S. novelist John Irving’s lasted through a sequence of several substantial, rewarding novels, from his late-seventies hit Garp to the 1989 release A Prayer for Owen Meany. Such were generous, witty, compassionate novels, linking protagonists he refers to as “misfits” to societal topics from gender equality to reproductive rights.

Following Owen Meany, it’s been diminishing results, save in word count. His most recent novel, the 2022 release His Last Chairlift Novel, was nine hundred pages of subjects Irving had examined better in prior works (selective mutism, restricted growth, transgenderism), with a two-hundred-page film script in the heart to fill it out – as if padding were necessary.

So we come to a recent Irving with caution but still a tiny flame of hope, which glows stronger when we find out that Queen Esther – a just four hundred thirty-two pages long – “revisits the universe of The Cider House Rules”. That mid-eighties work is one of Irving’s top-tier novels, located primarily in an orphanage in St Cloud’s, Maine, operated by Dr Larch and his protege Wells.

This novel is a failure from a writer who in the past gave such pleasure

In His Cider House Novel, Irving wrote about abortion and acceptance with richness, humor and an all-encompassing understanding. And it was a major work because it abandoned the topics that were evolving into tiresome habits in his novels: grappling, bears, Vienna, prostitution.

The novel opens in the fictional community of the Penacook area in the twentieth century's dawn, where the Winslow couple welcome young foundling Esther from St Cloud's home. We are a several years ahead of the action of His Earlier Novel, yet Wilbur Larch remains identifiable: already using anesthetic, respected by his nurses, starting every speech with “Here in St Cloud’s …” But his appearance in this novel is limited to these opening sections.

The family are concerned about bringing up Esther correctly: she’s from a Jewish background, and “how might they help a adolescent Jewish female discover her identity?” To tackle that, we move forward to Esther’s adulthood in the Roaring Twenties. She will be a member of the Jewish migration to the area, where she will enter the paramilitary group, the Jewish nationalist armed force whose “purpose was to defend Jewish communities from hostile actions” and which would eventually become the core of the Israeli Defense Forces.

These are enormous subjects to address, but having presented them, Irving avoids them. Because if it’s disappointing that Queen Esther is not really about the orphanage and Dr Larch, it’s still more disappointing that it’s also not about the main character. For causes that must connect to plot engineering, Esther becomes a substitute parent for a different of the family's children, and delivers to a baby boy, James, in World War II era – and the lion's share of this story is the boy's tale.

And at this point is where Irving’s fixations come roaring back, both common and distinct. Jimmy relocates to – naturally – the city; there’s mention of evading the draft notice through bodily injury (Owen Meany); a canine with a significant designation (the animal, meet Sorrow from Hotel New Hampshire); as well as grappling, sex workers, writers and male anatomy (Irving’s throughout).

He is a more mundane figure than the female lead hinted to be, and the secondary figures, such as students the two students, and Jimmy’s teacher Annelies Eissler, are underdeveloped also. There are a few nice scenes – Jimmy deflowering; a fight where a couple of ruffians get assaulted with a support and a bicycle pump – but they’re brief.

Irving has not once been a subtle novelist, but that is not the problem. He has always repeated his points, foreshadowed story twists and enabled them to build up in the reader’s imagination before taking them to resolution in extended, jarring, amusing scenes. For case, in Irving’s works, body parts tend to be lost: recall the tongue in The Garp Novel, the hand part in Owen Meany. Those absences resonate through the story. In this novel, a central character loses an limb – but we merely discover 30 pages before the end.

The protagonist returns toward the end in the novel, but only with a final impression of ending the story. We not once do find out the full narrative of her life in the region. This novel is a failure from a author who previously gave such delight. That’s the negative aspect. The good news is that His Classic Novel – upon rereading together with this work – still remains wonderfully, 40 years on. So choose that instead: it’s much longer as the new novel, but 12 times as enjoyable.