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If certain novelists experience an golden phase, where they hit the pinnacle consistently, then U.S. writer John Irving’s extended through a run of four long, gratifying works, from his late-seventies hit His Garp Novel to 1989’s Owen Meany. Those were rich, witty, warm works, tying characters he describes as “outliers” to cultural themes from women's rights to reproductive rights.

Since Owen Meany, it’s been diminishing returns, save in word count. His most recent novel, the 2022 release The Chairlift Book, was 900 pages in length of subjects Irving had examined more effectively in prior works (mutism, short stature, trans issues), with a lengthy script in the heart to extend it – as if padding were required.

Thus we come to a latest Irving with care but still a tiny flame of optimism, which glows hotter when we learn that His Queen Esther Novel – a only 432 pages long – “revisits the world of The Cider House Rules”. That 1985 novel is part of Irving’s top-tier novels, set mostly in an institution in St Cloud’s, Maine, run by Dr Larch and his protege Homer Wells.

Queen Esther is a failure from a author who previously gave such joy

In Cider House, Irving discussed abortion and identity with vibrancy, wit and an all-encompassing empathy. And it was a major work because it left behind the subjects that were turning into tiresome patterns in his novels: the sport of wrestling, wild bears, the city of Vienna, the oldest profession.

Queen Esther opens in the made-up village of New Hampshire's Penacook in the early 20th century, where the Winslow couple welcome teenage orphan the protagonist from St Cloud’s. We are a few years ahead of the action of His Earlier Novel, yet the doctor remains familiar: already dependent on the drug, respected by his staff, starting every talk with “At St Cloud's...” But his presence in Queen Esther is limited to these initial sections.

The family worry about bringing up Esther properly: she’s of Jewish faith, and “how might they help a adolescent Jewish girl find herself?” To tackle that, we jump ahead to Esther’s adulthood in the Roaring Twenties. She will be part of the Jewish exodus to the area, where she will join Haganah, the pro-Zionist armed group whose “mission was to safeguard Jewish settlements from Arab attacks” and which would subsequently form the core of the Israeli Defense Forces.

Those are huge themes to address, but having introduced them, Irving backs away. Because if it’s disappointing that this book is not really about St Cloud’s and the doctor, it’s still more disappointing that it’s also not really concerning Esther. For motivations that must involve plot engineering, Esther ends up as a substitute parent for another of the couple's daughters, and bears to a son, the boy, in 1941 – and the lion's share of this book is Jimmy’s tale.

And now is where Irving’s preoccupations reappear loudly, both typical and particular. Jimmy moves to – naturally – Vienna; there’s talk of evading the draft notice through bodily injury (His Earlier Book); a dog with a meaningful name (the dog's name, recall Sorrow from Hotel New Hampshire); as well as grappling, prostitutes, novelists and penises (Irving’s throughout).

He is a more mundane figure than the female lead promised to be, and the minor players, such as young people the two students, and Jimmy’s teacher Eissler, are flat as well. There are several nice scenes – Jimmy deflowering; a fight where a couple of ruffians get assaulted with a crutch and a air pump – but they’re short-lived.

Irving has never been a delicate novelist, but that is not the difficulty. He has consistently restated his ideas, hinted at plot developments and allowed them to gather in the reader’s mind before bringing them to fruition in extended, jarring, funny scenes. For instance, in Irving’s novels, anatomical features tend to go missing: remember the tongue in The Garp Novel, the hand part in Owen Meany. Those absences resonate through the story. In the book, a central person is deprived of an upper extremity – but we just learn 30 pages the conclusion.

The protagonist comes back toward the end in the book, but merely with a last-minute feeling of ending the story. We never do find out the complete account of her time in the Middle East. This novel is a disappointment from a novelist who previously gave such joy. That’s the bad news. The good news is that Cider House – upon rereading together with this novel – even now holds up excellently, after forty years. So choose it instead: it’s double the length as this book, but 12 times as enjoyable.