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If some authors experience an golden phase, during which they hit the pinnacle time after time, then American writer John Irving’s extended through a series of four long, satisfying novels, from his 1978 success His Garp Novel to the 1989 release Owen Meany. These were expansive, humorous, warm works, tying figures he refers to as “outsiders” to social issues from feminism to abortion.

After His Owen Meany Novel, it’s been declining returns, save in size. His most recent book, 2022’s The Last Chairlift, was 900 pages in length of topics Irving had examined more skillfully in earlier novels (inability to speak, restricted growth, transgenderism), with a two-hundred-page script in the middle to extend it – as if padding were required.

So we come to a recent Irving with caution but still a tiny flame of optimism, which burns hotter when we discover that Queen Esther – a mere 432 pages – “goes back to the world of His Cider House Rules”. That mid-eighties work is one of Irving’s finest books, taking place mostly in an institution in St Cloud’s, Maine, run by Dr Wilbur Larch and his protege Homer Wells.

Queen Esther is a letdown from a writer who previously gave such joy

In The Cider House Rules, Irving discussed abortion and acceptance with colour, wit and an total empathy. And it was a major book because it abandoned the subjects that were evolving into tiresome patterns in his works: wrestling, bears, Austrian capital, sex work.

This book starts in the imaginary town of the Penacook area in the early 20th century, where Mr. and Mrs. Winslow adopt 14-year-old orphan the title character from the orphanage. We are a several generations prior to the storyline of Cider House, yet the doctor remains recognisable: even then dependent on ether, adored by his nurses, beginning every talk with “Here in St Cloud’s …” But his presence in Queen Esther is limited to these opening scenes.

The Winslows are concerned about parenting Esther properly: she’s of Jewish faith, and “how might they help a adolescent girl of Jewish descent understand her place?” To address that, we flash forward to Esther’s grown-up years in the twenties era. She will be part of the Jewish exodus to the area, where she will enter the paramilitary group, the Zionist militant group whose “mission was to protect Jewish communities from opposition” and which would later form the foundation of the IDF.

Such are massive topics to take on, but having brought in them, Irving avoids them. Because if it’s regrettable that the novel is not actually about the orphanage and the doctor, it’s even more disappointing that it’s likewise not really concerning Esther. For causes that must connect to plot engineering, Esther ends up as a substitute parent for a different of the family's children, and gives birth to a baby boy, the boy, in the early forties – and the bulk of this book is Jimmy’s tale.

And now is where Irving’s fixations reappear loudly, both typical and specific. Jimmy relocates to – naturally – the city; there’s discussion of dodging the draft notice through self-harm (Owen Meany); a canine with a significant designation (the animal, remember the canine from Hotel New Hampshire); as well as grappling, prostitutes, novelists and genitalia (Irving’s passim).

Jimmy is a duller character than Esther suggested to be, and the supporting characters, such as young people the pair, and Jimmy’s instructor Eissler, are flat too. There are a few enjoyable set pieces – Jimmy his first sexual experience; a fight where a few thugs get assaulted with a crutch and a bicycle pump – but they’re brief.

Irving has not once been a nuanced author, but that is isn't the problem. He has always repeated his ideas, foreshadowed narrative turns and enabled them to accumulate in the audience's imagination before taking them to completion in extended, jarring, funny moments. For instance, in Irving’s books, anatomical features tend to go missing: remember the tongue in Garp, the hand part in Owen Meany. Those absences reverberate through the story. In this novel, a key character suffers the loss of an arm – but we only find out thirty pages the finish.

The protagonist returns toward the end in the novel, but only with a last-minute impression of ending the story. We do not learn the entire story of her life in the region. The book is a disappointment from a author who previously gave such delight. That’s the negative aspect. The upside is that His Classic Novel – revisiting it together with this novel – yet stands up beautifully, after forty years. So choose it as an alternative: it’s much longer as this book, but 12 times as enjoyable.