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If a few writers enjoy an golden period, in which they hit the heights time after time, then U.S. writer John Irving’s extended through a sequence of four fat, satisfying books, from his 1978 breakthrough The World According to Garp to the 1989 release A Prayer for Owen Meany. Such were expansive, funny, big-hearted works, connecting characters he refers to as “outliers” to cultural themes from women's rights to termination.

Since A Prayer for Owen Meany, it’s been declining returns, save in page length. His last novel, 2022’s His Last Chairlift Novel, was nine hundred pages long of subjects Irving had examined more effectively in prior works (mutism, short stature, transgenderism), with a lengthy script in the middle to pad it out – as if extra material were necessary.

So we look at a recent Irving with reservation but still a faint flame of expectation, which shines stronger when we learn that His Queen Esther Novel – a mere four hundred thirty-two pages – “revisits the world of His Cider House Rules”. That mid-eighties work is one of Irving’s top-tier works, located largely in an children's home in the town of St Cloud’s, managed by Wilbur Larch and his apprentice Homer.

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

In His Cider House Novel, Irving discussed termination and identity with richness, comedy and an comprehensive understanding. And it was a major work because it left behind the topics that were becoming annoying habits in his books: grappling, ursine creatures, Austrian capital, prostitution.

The novel opens in the imaginary village of Penacook, New Hampshire in the twentieth century's dawn, where Thomas and Constance Winslow welcome teenage ward the protagonist from the orphanage. We are a several years ahead of the events of Cider House, yet the doctor stays familiar: still dependent on anesthetic, adored by his caregivers, opening every talk with “In this place...” But his appearance in the book is confined to these early parts.

The family are concerned about parenting Esther properly: she’s from a Jewish background, and “how might they help a adolescent Jewish girl discover her identity?” To tackle that, we flash forward to Esther’s later life in the twenties era. She will be part of the Jewish emigration to Palestine, where she will join Haganah, the Zionist militant group whose “goal was to protect Jewish settlements from opposition” and which would eventually establish the foundation of the IDF.

Such are enormous topics to tackle, but having presented them, Irving avoids them. Because if it’s frustrating that this book is not really about the orphanage and Wilbur Larch, it’s still more disheartening that it’s additionally not about Esther. For reasons that must relate to story mechanics, Esther becomes a substitute parent for another of the Winslows’ children, and gives birth to a son, Jimmy, in 1941 – and the majority of this book is Jimmy’s tale.

And now is where Irving’s fixations reappear loudly, both regular and specific. Jimmy moves to – where else? – Vienna; there’s discussion of avoiding the military conscription through self-harm (A Prayer for Owen Meany); a canine with a meaningful title (the animal, remember the earlier dog from Hotel New Hampshire); as well as the sport, streetwalkers, authors and penises (Irving’s passim).

Jimmy is a duller figure than the female lead hinted to be, and the secondary figures, such as students the two students, and Jimmy’s instructor Eissler, are underdeveloped also. There are a few nice scenes – Jimmy losing his virginity; a brawl where a handful of ruffians get assaulted with a walking aid and a bicycle pump – but they’re short-lived.

Irving has never been a subtle novelist, but that is isn't the issue. He has consistently reiterated his ideas, telegraphed narrative turns and let them to build up in the reader’s mind before bringing them to completion in long, surprising, funny moments. For example, in Irving’s books, physical elements tend to go missing: think of the oral part in The Garp Novel, the hand part in Owen Meany. Those absences echo through the story. In Queen Esther, a major character loses an arm – but we just learn 30 pages later the finish.

Esther comes back in the final part in the book, but just with a last-minute sense of concluding. We never do find out the entire story of her life in the region. This novel is a disappointment from a author who previously gave such pleasure. That’s the downside. The positive note is that His Classic Novel – revisiting it together with this novel – even now stands up excellently, four decades later. So pick up that instead: it’s twice as long as this book, but 12 times as good.