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If a few writers experience an peak period, in which they achieve the summit time after time, then American author John Irving’s extended through a sequence of several substantial, rewarding books, from his 1978 success His Garp Novel to 1989’s Owen Meany. These were generous, humorous, warm works, linking protagonists he describes as “outliers” to social issues from gender equality to abortion.

After His Owen Meany Novel, it’s been declining outcomes, aside from in size. His most recent book, 2022’s The Chairlift Book, was nine hundred pages long of themes Irving had examined more skillfully in prior books (inability to speak, restricted growth, gender identity), with a two-hundred-page film script in the center to pad it out – as if padding were necessary.

Therefore we look at a recent Irving with reservation but still a small glimmer of expectation, which glows brighter when we find out that Queen Esther – a only four hundred thirty-two pages in length – “returns to the universe of The Cider House Novel”. That 1985 book is one of Irving’s top-tier books, taking place primarily in an children's home in St Cloud’s, Maine, managed by Dr Larch and his apprentice Homer Wells.

The book is a failure from a novelist who in the past gave such joy

In The Cider House Rules, Irving wrote about pregnancy termination and identity with richness, comedy and an total understanding. And it was a important novel because it moved past the subjects that were turning into annoying habits in his works: wrestling, ursine creatures, Vienna, prostitution.

This book starts in the imaginary community of New Hampshire's Penacook in the beginning of the 1900s, where Mr. and Mrs. Winslow take in young orphan the title character from the orphanage. We are a a number of years before the events of Cider House, yet the doctor is still identifiable: still using the drug, adored by his caregivers, starting every talk with “In this place...” But his appearance in this novel is restricted to these initial sections.

The Winslows fret about raising Esther well: she’s Jewish, and “how could they help a teenage Jewish female discover her identity?” To tackle that, we move forward to Esther’s grown-up years in the twenties era. She will be a member of the Jewish migration to the region, where she will join the Haganah, the Jewish nationalist armed force whose “goal was to safeguard Jewish communities from opposition” and which would eventually become the basis of the Israeli Defense Forces.

Those are huge themes to take on, but having presented them, Irving avoids them. Because if it’s disappointing that this book is not actually about the orphanage and Wilbur Larch, it’s all the more disappointing that it’s additionally not really concerning the titular figure. For motivations that must involve narrative construction, Esther becomes a substitute parent for another of the family's daughters, and gives birth to a male child, the boy, in 1941 – and the bulk of this book is the boy's tale.

And at this point is where Irving’s obsessions return strongly, both typical and particular. Jimmy moves to – of course – the Austrian capital; there’s talk of dodging the draft notice through bodily injury (His Earlier Book); a canine with a meaningful title (the animal, recall the earlier dog from Hotel New Hampshire); as well as grappling, sex workers, novelists and male anatomy (Irving’s recurring).

The character is a duller character than the heroine suggested to be, and the minor players, such as pupils the two students, and Jimmy’s tutor Eissler, are flat as well. There are a few amusing episodes – Jimmy his first sexual experience; a brawl where a few ruffians get assaulted with a walking aid and a tire pump – but they’re here and gone.

Irving has never been a delicate author, but that is not the difficulty. He has always reiterated his points, hinted at plot developments and enabled them to accumulate in the viewer's mind before taking them to resolution in long, surprising, entertaining scenes. For example, in Irving’s works, physical elements tend to go missing: recall the tongue in The Garp Novel, the hand part in Owen Meany. Those absences resonate through the narrative. In Queen Esther, a central figure is deprived of an upper extremity – but we merely find out 30 pages later the finish.

Esther returns late in the novel, but merely with a eleventh-hour feeling of wrapping things up. We not once discover the complete story of her life in the Middle East. Queen Esther is a failure from a novelist who in the past gave such delight. That’s the downside. The positive note is that Cider House – upon rereading alongside this novel – yet stands up excellently, after forty years. So read it as an alternative: it’s much longer as Queen Esther, but a dozen times as enjoyable.