He was not past it. And neither are we.

The story is set on a beautiful June day on a New England estate. The irony of the setting is immediate—the Maples have spent years cultivating a "perfect" domestic life, symbolized by the stone walls Richard meticulously repairs.

Richard spends the day performing chores—fixing a screen, mowing the lawn. These are attempts to "leave the house in order," but they also highlight the futility of trying to repair a structure (the family) that is fundamentally broken.

"Separating" is not a story about a divorce; it is a story about the moment before the divorce becomes real. It captures the liminal space between "us" and "them." Updike does not offer easy villains or heroes. Richard is not a monster, just a flawed man seeking an elusive happiness; Joan is not a saint, just a woman holding on to dignity.

The climax of the story is the dinner scene, where the facade finally cracks. The reactions of the Maple children provide a cross-section of how different generations process trauma.

Updike paints Richard as a man desperate for an escape, yet paralyzed by guilt. He is the architect of the separation—the one who has found a new apartment and, ostensibly, a new life. Yet, he is also the most fragile character in the piece. Joan, conversely, displays a steely, pragmatic resilience. She is the one who insists they maintain the charade for the sake of the children, pushing Richard to endure the "false" day. In this dynamic, Updike subverts the trope of the hysterical spouse; the man leaving is the one falling apart, while the woman being left holds the family structure together until the very last moment.