Word has come that John Updike has died after a battle with lung cancer.The obituaries and evaluations have already begun to flow.When giving Updike a lifetime achievement award, an MC once said: "Commending the work of John Updike is a bit like praising democracy or defending the value of freedom. You don't know where to start, and you feel embarrassed to be stating the obvious."Don't I know it.His myriad gifts and accomplishments will be lauded -- his long, productive writing career, maintained at such a high level of grace and stylishness; the range of his fictional output, from the Rabbit novels with their brilliant chronicling of post-war suburban affluence and angst to his recent attempt to inhabit the mind of a young terrorist; his ravenous curiosity, generating fascinating essays on visual art, Ted Williams, and a host of other subjects, including a steady stream of generous and incisive book reviews.Am I stating the obvious?In the coming days, out of respect, discussion of the more controversial elements of his life and opinions will be muted -- the accusations of misogyny, pornographic obsession with sex, and a bevy of political hot potato issues, such as his defense of the Vietnam War.I do wonder how many of the eulogizers and critics will touch on his Christian faith -- a dark, Barthian thing, perhaps, but like so much else in his life, consistently held and practiced.I realize I'm only scratching the surface of the obvious here, but I will conclude by saying, with genuine feeling: Requiescat in pace.