This is a remarkable novel about the Berry family.

When Win and Mary meet in a hotel in Maine, their lives are set on a particular path.

The entrance of a Viennese Jew named Freud and his bear “State of Maine” further complicates the story, leading them to choose a certain direction.

They have five children - Frank, Franny, John, Lilly, and Egg - and also own a bear.

Their journey of growing up is intertwined with the not-so-successful Hotels named “Hotel New Hampshire”, although the third one has its own kind of success.

The first hotel, a former all-girl school, is a source of amazing tales and interesting inhabitants, a place where the children grow up.

The second hotel in Vienna is where they continue to mature and find their callings. They meet another bear, a smart one, and Freud once again enters the story, leaving with a bang.

The last hotel is where Win and Mary first met in Maine.

This epic story encompasses heartache, growing up, sexual exploration, hotels, and bears. It offers insights into Vienna (both the bear and the city feature in more of Irving's novels).

The story of these kids growing up in unexpected ways is both hilarious and touching. It's an amazing family tale that only Irving could create.

I have always loved this book and prefer it to “The World According to Garp”.

John Irving's prose is a favorite of mine, and returning to this novel after a decade has been a great experience.

I will definitely reread more of his tales as he is now over 80 years old and I don't expect new works anytime soon.

Let the kids in the book take you on a journey through their youth and growing up. They may be wiser than expected, but I'm mostly envious of their experiences.

This John Irving novel is almost perfect and a real hoot. It's always a pleasure to return to, even after reading it many times before.

I read 'The Hotel New Hampshire' over a decade ago. What sticks in my mind is the shocking incestuous line in the story. I thought, "This is ruining it! Why does John Irving always do this?" He creates completely charming characters and an interesting storyline, and then there's this sickness. It's always there - the dysfunction, the immoral aspect. I know it's part of the real world, and I don't consider myself a prude. I just don't always want to fill my head with it.

The "great story" is now far enough away (I read it in college) that I can't remember if it was good enough to read despite the more messed up portions of his writing. Currently, I have this general feeling about his stories.

Although I must admit that I distinctly remember feeling like I wouldn't be able to handle it if Owen Meany died (and really crying, maybe even sobbing), or in general when any of the books ended, I felt a little sick that these rich, lovable characters wouldn't be in my life anymore. Clearly, I loved his work on some level because I read 3 - 4 of his novels in quick succession. I just wish he would leave out the weird incestuous and inappropriate older women/younger men sexual relations from his books. I truly believe it wouldn't weaken the storyline or make him any less of a writer. But I suppose that's part of him, something you have to accept. Maybe he's working through personal issues. I doubt it because he never seems to present it with any moral implications. It's just "what it is" for him. He is an amazing, captivating storyteller. So, reader beware or just make your own choice.

I've probably read this book around 10 times by now. I went through a phase where I was really into John Irving's works, but I kind of overdid it about halfway through. By the way, "140lb Marriage" is a truly terrible book, so don't bother with it.

However, this particular book is one of my absolute favorites. It would be my third choice if I were stranded on a desert island, but it's a bit too sad. I don't think it would be a good idea to isolate myself with it on an island and read it over and over again for all eternity. That being said, it's Irving at his finest. Anyone who can take a family that is involved in incest, abuse, prostitution, and suicide and still manage to make you love them and identify with them is an incredibly fantastic writer. It's completely ironic (whatever that truly means) and yet sympathetic. It's so sad, and even painful at times, that I often think about picking it up, but I don't. It requires a certain mindset. Nevertheless, everyone should read it at least once.

I have watched the 1984 movie, which, in some respects, is vastly different from the book.

Regarding the book, simply naming a character Freud or setting part of the novel in post-WWII Austria doesn't automatically add psychoanalytical depth. Even with the inclusion of incest and Sigmund Freud quotes or recommendations on his books.

This is just the story, which I find funny at times, of a dysfunctional American family mainly led by a somewhat mad father in pursuit of a dream accomplishment: a comfortable and happy, familial hotel. However, despite the family's attempts to achieve this dream hotel (they tried three times in different locations), it always ends up as something else, like a Center for Rape Crisis. And yet, the (now blind) father still believes it's a hotel. What a fool!

As for the bear question, with the exception of the first, real bear called State O'Maine, from then on, it's never a real bear. Instead, it's just people like Susie who, for some time throughout the novel, don't feel fully human. The bear is merely a disguise.

This novel by the Canadian writer is a bit disappointing. Nevertheless, it does shed some light on what it means "to be American," even in a negative sense.

I've always been aware of 'Hotel New Hampshire'. I had no idea what it was actually about, but I knew there was a book, and I also knew there was a film. Somehow, I imagined it to be something like a Hitchcock movie mixed with 'Last Tango In Paris'. Imagine my surprise when I started reading. So far, there's something about a bear. I will complete this review once I'm done reading.

Okay. I'm done reading. I don't think John Irving will ever receive five stars from me. Although he is an excellent storyteller - and this is precisely what the purpose of every novel should be - to tell a good story. All modern and not-so-modern writers who have some other hidden agenda should perhaps consider a career change. Telling stories is what writing novels is all about, and John Irving does that superbly. You never know if it's a plot-driven novel or a character-driven novel because he seems to put equal effort into developing both his characters and his story. They go hand in hand and develop together. Kudos for that.

As a true storyteller, Irving often strays from the main path. He just loves to digress, and digress... and digress... However, it didn't bother me at all in 'The Hotel New Hampshire' (unlike in 'The Prayer for Owen Meany'). The real problem I have with Irving and the reason why he probably will never get five stars from me is his really cheesy symbolism. I have no problem with books asking me to suspend my disbelief seriously. But Irving puts all that crazy stuff in his books just so he can have his symbolism. I think his tricks are cheap. And sometimes I really don't know. Is Irving a truly amazing writer or is he just tricking me into believing he is while always serving me the same recycled dish?

The first novel I've read from Irving, which I consider to be one of my favorites and perhaps one of his best, initially seems to lack a traditional plot.

It is about the Berry family, a truly quirky and bizarre bunch. Their lives are filled with surprises, tragedies, death, and moments of realization.

The story begins with the Berry father's overwhelming desire to run a hotel and his belief that a family can thrive in such an environment. The Berrys consist of the affectionate mother, whom I found to be one of the most sympathetic characters. There's also Frank, the eldest homosexual son, Franny, the weirdest and beautiful daughter, John, the narrator who is constantly in crisis, Lily the writer, and Egg the egg.

The Hotel New Hampshire is a hilarious, heartbreaking, and deeply touching family saga. Each character grabs the reader's attention, sympathy, and love. Just when things start to look happy, tragedy strikes, which is an Irving trademark.

Although the book has many chapters, in my opinion, it really only has two parts. I'm not sure if Irving eliminates certain characters to make way for new ones and gain full control, but after reaching the second part, it becomes clear that some characters no longer fit the situation and must be removed.

This is the kind of book that I truly hate to put down. I'm not being overly dramatic, but I just can't get enough of the Berrys. Of course, it's a saga, so everyone has to say goodbye eventually. Even after finishing the book, the characters still linger in my mind, and I wonder what they're up to now.

The book also contains some of the most readable lines I've ever come across. They make me stop and think, fully realizing their significance before continuing. Despite having a different plot, it reminds me of the manga Maison Ikkoku by my favorite manga artist, Rumiko Takahashi.

If I were to recommend an Irving novel to get you started on his work, this would be one of my top choices, along with The Cider House Rules, A Prayer for Owen Meany, and The World According to Garp. I highly recommend it. The Hotel New Hampshire was also adapted into a film in 1984.

Opening Sentence: The summer my father bought the bear, none of us was born - we weren't even conceived: not Frank, the oldest; not Franny, the loudest; not me, the next; and not the youngest of us, Lilly and Egg.

Ending Sentence: You have to keep passing the open windows.

The text starts by talking about Susie, who is afraid of being a human and interacting with others. It questions how many people think the same way but don't make an effort to find a solution. It also mentions that the author gave two stars to Irving's work, saying it was just okay.

The Berry family is described as crazy, original, and fun. The first chapters are very entertaining until adolescence makes things seriously. Then, there are seven years in Vienna with Susie the bear, falling airplanes, revolutionaries, and bombs. The author feels that adding too many absurd situations made the story lose its human side and their tenderness for the characters.

There are still some memorable scenes in New York, like the revenge on Chip Dove and a suicide (which is a spoiler). In the end, the Berry family becomes human again. However, the author had raced through two-thirds of the book, hoping to reach the end quickly.

The novel has both grand moments and dull ones, with some passages being a bit banal. The author wonders if their problem is having too high expectations or becoming too critical. They know they don't think like Win Berry and would rather have a massage shower than a bear in a hotel.

I feel a tinge of guilt for devouring this book so rapidly. John Irving invests years into writing his books, and that too, in longhand! A great deal of effort goes into crafting his stories. However, I simply could not tear myself away from this one. Never before have I been so captivated so early on while reading an Irving novel. Usually, it takes a chapter or two for me to warm up to the world he is constructing. But not with The Hotel New Hampshire. I was charmed right from the start.

One's enjoyment of this novel will likely depend on his or her tolerance for 'triggering' subjects. Incest is arguably the core of this book. Irving approaches the topic with love and care, yet I am aware that it is an uncomfortable one for many readers. And the author does not shy away from it; instead, he handles it with his characteristic deftness. He aims to jolt his reader, to push him or her out of the comfort zone... and he succeeds in doing so.

On show are the typical Irving-isms: bears, New England private schools, Vienna, prostitution, sexual awakenings, sexual experimentation, shocking deaths, and wacky situations. It's John Irving, after all. He is definitely not for everyone, but for his fans, within this hotel can be found familiar delights.

This freak show, this exhibition of oddities, quickly became boring to me. The characters here are little more than caricatures, built around two or three lines that are continuously repeated until they are tiresome.

Not to mention the quick philosophical lessons that the narrator doesn't fail to dispense between one strangeness and another, serving as glue. Stuff that even Coelho...

But the two stars are also due to the translation. This type, this Pier Francesco Paolini, seems to translate into his Italian, making strange choices like people "in the name of" and the day of "Thanksgiving", but above all I cannot tolerate someone who for over four hundred pages passes off American football as rugby to me.

Unacceptable.

John Irving has taught me something very important in the last few weeks. That sometimes one just has to persevere, even when one can't find the motivation to go on. That perhaps one loses something if one gives up too early. And he is so right, for I would have lost a unique and enchanting story.

When I opened "The Hotel New Hampshire" and started to read the first few pages, Irving's writing style completely overwhelmed me. I simply couldn't reach the point where I could let myself fall into the story and more than once I considered putting the book aside and perhaps reading it another time (Which one usually doesn't do anyway!).

But something held me back and I kept reading. There is an incredibly strange magic that dwells within this book and that slowly but steadily caught me and suddenly I had checked into the Hotel New Hampshire.

God, what a talent Irving has to breathe life into his consistently quirky but incredibly original and special characters. It is so intense that it is almost frightening.

I have rarely read something so tragic, loving, enchanting, sad, melancholic and absolutely special.

And it was my first Irving, what else do I have to catch up on?

There were difficulties at the beginning, but then it was love at second sight.

If this book didn't have a plot, I could read it endlessly.

Just about the family, life, growing up, and all the people around.

Without terrorists, rapes, and murders/suicides.

It's like a gentle breeze that blows through your heart, bringing a sense of peace and tranquility.

You can immerse yourself in the simple and ordinary life described in the book, feel the warmth and love within the family, and experience the growth and changes of the characters.

Sometimes, we need such a book to let us escape from the hustle and bustle of the real world and find a quiet corner in our hearts to rest and relax.

Although it may not have the excitement and thrill of a thriller or mystery novel, it has its own unique charm and value.

I simply cannot fathom that I reached my 40s without having read this book.

As a child, I recall seeing it on my parents' shelves, and I have a hazy memory of witnessing one scene from the film in the 80s, yet I never managed to peruse it until now.

Only Irving has the ability to concoct a plot so outrageously strange, implausible, and discomforting, and still turn it into an emotionally powerful masterpiece. Having read "A Prayer for Owen Meany" years ago, I'm struck by the fact that Irving appears to have a particular penchant for dressmaker forms and little people. I'm extremely curious to know the story behind that.

Once you become acquainted with Irving's characters, as idiosyncratic as they may be, they eventually become rather predictable individuals. Irving employs the repetition of certain phrases by each character to solidify their personalities. However, the situations they find themselves in are entirely unpredictable, absurd, and almost impossible to believe. But the fact that the absurdity commences right from the start (with an animal trainer named Freud and a bear named State 'O Maine that rides a motorcycle), and the fact that Irving makes his characters so incredibly sympathetic and likable (even when they are behaving horribly!), the reader (at least this particular reader) is able to completely disregard the ridiculousness of some of the plot lines and go along for the ride.

Such a blend of sadness (a dog named "Sorrow" being a prominent figure, among other things) and silliness, loss, and dream fulfillment - this is most definitely one of those books that I will deeply miss now that I've completed it.