This is a pretty tough book, in many ways: the violence and abuse perpetrated by the staff of the mental institution where the story is set is uncomfortable to read (and I have a daughter who is permanently institutionalised, so it cuts rather close to home). Also I was rather dismayed by the racism and sexism of the story: the only black
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You might also find Tom Wolfe's book, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, in which Kesey features as a character, of interest.
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I fear Kesey's of that generation of US writers where freedom meant as much freedom from getting women pregnant as equality of the sexes, and he was writing in a still segregated America. (The Beat Generation, to whom he was linked via Neal Cassasy, were hardly less problematic with women being represented, but idolised African Americans via jazz.)
The ending of the film and book still make me cry.
[The film would have been too Carrie/Shining if it had kept the slime oozing down the walls of the book, and has an astonishing cast. Brad Dourif as Billy; Nicholson rarely better and winning an Oscar, Louise Fletcher winning one for a thankless role of Nurse Ratchett. Danny de Vito and Christopher Lloyd working together preTaxi. Michael Douglas (if I recall having bought ( ... )
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I also remember that my rule - see the movie first, then read the book, because the movie will be a mere shadow of the book - was prompted by Cuckoo's Nest. I had high expectations of the movie, due to its reaction and to my reading of the book. The movie wasn't bad, but it failed to live up to my perhaps unreasonable expectations.
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