“Just when you begin thinking of yourself as memorable, you run into someone who can't even remember having met you.” ~John Irving

This profound quote by John Irving serves as a reminder of the often humbling nature of our self-perception. We may go through life believing that we have made a lasting impression on those we encounter, only to be faced with the reality that others may not remember us at all.

It makes us question the significance of our interactions and the true impact we have on the lives of others. Maybe we overestimate our own importance, or perhaps the memories we hold dear are not as vivid for those around us.

This quote also highlights the impermanence of human connection. In a world where we are constantly meeting new people and moving on, it can be easy to forget those we have crossed paths with. But it also reminds us to cherish the moments we do have and to make an effort to leave a positive and lasting impression on those we meet.

Overall, John Irving's words offer a valuable perspective on the human experience and the importance of humility in our relationships with others.

So we dream on.

We invent our lives in the most creative ways. We envision a sainted mother who is always kind and loving, and we make our father into a heroic figure, strong and wise. And there are those older brothers and sisters of others who also become our heroes.

We invent what we love and what we fear. There is always that brave, lost brother, and a little lost sister too. We keep on dreaming, imagining the best hotel, the perfect family, and the idyllic resort life. But our dreams often escape us, almost as vividly as we can imagine them.

I have started writing this review four or five times. I can't remember exactly. Each time, I manage to get a few lines in, only to realize that I'm falling far short of expressing what I truly want to say. This novel has truly broken my heart. It is beautiful, lyrical, warm, and funny all at once. And with each and every paragraph, every single word, it has broken my fucking heart. That's really all I can say about it. Just read it.

"You have to keep passing the open windows."

While "The Cider House Rules" is not my favorite book of John Irving's, I still found myself thoroughly enjoying this story. The family at the center of the narrative is beautiful in their own unique and damaged way. Each character is so well-developed that I couldn't help but fall in love with them. Homer Wells, the protagonist, is a complex and endearing young man. His journey from an orphan in an apple orchard to a man finding his place in the world is both heartwarming and thought-provoking. The other members of the family, including Dr. Larch and Candy, also have their own flaws and virtues that make them all the more relatable. Irving's writing style is engaging and descriptive, painting a vivid picture of the characters and their surroundings. Overall, despite not being my absolute favorite, this book is a must-read for anyone who enjoys a good story about family, love, and self-discovery.

I really attempted to give this a fair chance. However, at 200 pages, I'm simply finished.

I'm open to books with a meandering plot. If you can present me with great characters, themes, motifs, and so on, they can compensate for a mediocre plot. My issue with Irving's work here is that it seems as if he had 50 different creative writing prompts that he tried to blend into something resembling a novel, and I'm not interested in it.

Irving either couldn't determine a tone (comedic or serious) or his concept of dramedy is completely messed up. His idea of character quirks is either sexual in nature or actual disabilities. I'm constantly amazed by those who claim to have enjoyed the characters in this book, because they're all just various degrees of strange, whether they're incestuous, novice taxidermists, or something else. Instead of taking the time to explore the strangeness of his characters and what makes them tick, he just makes fun of them. Incest and rape are taboo for a reason, and if all you're going to do is use them as plot devices, you're a pretty bad writer in my opinion. What a missed opportunity to portray a gay character (Frank) as someone worthy of love and appreciation like the next person in the family. He's no different than John and Franny in their incestuous relationship for Irving. He seemed to think that just by having him exist, it would be sufficient, but no. That's not good representation, man.

I'm quite sparing with my 1-star ratings/reviews because I understand how difficult this process is and how much work goes into creating even the worst of novels. Unfortunately, Irving's writing is lacking in every sense here, and for the life of me, I don't know why his editor didn't make him go back and at least do some more drafts or just tell him to burn it and start over. You can't just make good characters quirky and expect that to pass as decent writing.

I've read numerous books and works of short fiction with quirky characters and taboo subjects and know that you can have both in your work, but you can't just do it half-heartedly. In the end, it's truly frustrating to see that happen here.

Orsi veri e finti, nani e giocolieri, puttane e terroristi, cani impagliati e topi ammaestrati.

These diverse characters create an incredible jumble. There are the real and fake bears, the dwarfs and jesters, the prostitutes and terrorists, the stuffed dogs and trained mice.

Yet, at the same time, they fascinate with their carnal humanity. Their stories unfold in a way that makes it impossible to stop reading.

The settings range from the Maine and New Hampshire to Vienna and New York.

Together, they stage a narrative that keeps the reader engaged from start to finish.

And finally, they offer an ending that is in some way reassuring and satisfying, leaving the reader with a sense of closure and a feeling that they have experienced something truly unique.

This is an unusual yet outrageously humorous read that I thoroughly enjoyed. I have long been a big fan of John Irving, and this story of the Berry Family does not disappoint.

The plot is filled with unconventional issues such as rape, incest, and homosexuality, along with a host of unexpected events. However, what makes it truly engaging are the lovable and quirky characters that Irving has created.

Despite the tragic elements and family heartbreak, the Berry Family understands that the most important thing is family. They also realize that the way the world works, which is often badly, should serve as a strong incentive to live purposefully and be determined to live well.

Overall, this is a story that will make you laugh, cry, and think about the importance of family and living a meaningful life. It's a must-read for fans of John Irving and anyone who enjoys a good, unconventional story.

This is an awesome book. I had never read Irving before, and I really have no idea why not. He is like that deli that you always drive by but never go into. Then, one day, you decide "what the hell" and it turns out to have the best pastrami sandwich you've ever had in your life.

Anyway, the story revolves around an unusual family. They are growing up and learning about various aspects of life such as sex, sports, love, death, failure, and success, etc. It is quirky, funny, and strange. Irving has a remarkable knack for finding little bits of truth in truly bizarre situations.

Oh, and the main love story is between a brother and sister, which is quite unexpected.

My only complaint is that the ending is a little too neat. Everything fits together a little too well. The rest of the book is messy and bursting at the seams, so the neatly tied-up ending doesn't quite fit. However, other than that, I would give this book 4 stars. It is an engaging and unique read that keeps you hooked from start to finish.

This was the first book of my new book club. John Irving is truly one of America’s great writers. Meanwhile, Happy Days was one of America’s most popular television shows. (Don’t worry, this will make sense later.)

Happy Days was widely beloved, but everyone knows there was that one infamous episode where everything seemed to start going downhill for Fonzie and the kids. It was the episode where Fonzie drove his motorcycle over a ramp and jumped a shark. Now, the phrase “jumped the shark” is commonly used to describe that moment whenever anything becomes absurd, turns sour, declines, takes a turn for the worse, or generally decreases in value.

In Hotel New Hampshire, John Irving begins by penning a rather affecting and darkly comic book about family and their commitment to one another. The Berry family follows the dreamer father, Win, and his ridiculous, half-baked schemes that lead to relative ruin. Before the five children are born, Win buys a circus bear and a motorcycle from a Jewish performer. When the children are young, the family converts an old girls’ school into a downscale hotel – The Hotel New Hampshire. Later, they’ll follow the dad to Europe and back.

The book is well-written and easy to read. There is also some macabre humor involving the bear, the family dog, and some misaimed taxidermy. However, the book also contains disturbing elements such as rape and incest. But THAT isn’t precisely where Hotel New Hampshire jumps the shark. It could have been handled in a more sensitive and insightful manner (unfortunately, it isn’t). The point where the whole story goes severely awry is halfway through the book with the reintroduction of the bear theme. (And that’s exactly what it feels like, a reintroduction of a theme, rather than a natural or believable turn in a good story. It’s completely implausible; I found myself actually loathing and disbelieving the idea and the character it was attached to.)

Once the novel jumps the shark, you realize Irving has been rather cruel and insensitive on every page of the book – regarding the subject of rape, the idea of sibling sexual attraction, the adoption of feminist concepts, political dissent, prostitution, and the lives of little people.

Thankfully, one thing saves this book. Despite all his callousness, Irving can still, almost accidentally, write about the love of a mother in a way that is emotionally affecting. He can create the peculiar personalities of siblings that make you care for them and wish to be related to them. He crafts a unique and lovable grandfather, and even the dreamer dad has his sweet moments. Especially touching is the story of the old Jewish performer and his love for his adopted Berry family.

Still, there’s that major stumble precisely halfway through the book that makes me wince every single time I think about it. Some writers jump the shark – others fall in the tank.

Typical of any John Irving book, the characters were so fantastically flawed that I couldn't help but fall in love with them. Each one was a complex blend of virtues and vices, making them truly human and relatable. I laughed at their absurdities, I cried at their tragedies, and I even found myself imagining what it would be like to adopt a bear, just like one of the characters. This is the book that gave Tim Sandlin inspiration for the title of his novel Sorrow Floats. It's a testament to the power of Irving's writing that such a simple yet perfectly poignant sentence could have such a profound impact. Every page of this book is permeated with such sentences, sentences that make you stop and think, sentences that stay with you long after you've finished reading. Keep passing by the open windows, and you might just catch a glimpse of the magic that lies within these pages.

First line fever:

The summer my father bought the bear, none of us was born - we weren't even conceived. Not Frank, the oldest, who would later grow up to be a tall and strong man with a kind heart. Not Fanny, the loudest, always full of energy and ready to speak her mind. And not me, the next in line, quietly observing the world around me. And certainly not the youngest of us, Lilly and Egg, who were still just a glimmer in our parents' eyes.

That summer was a time of anticipation and excitement. The bear, a large and majestic creature, became the center of attention in our small town. People came from far and wide to catch a glimpse of it. My father, a proud and determined man, was thrilled with his purchase. He believed that the bear would bring good fortune and prosperity to our family.

As the days passed, we all wondered what the future held for us. Would we grow up to be like our father, strong and independent? Or would we forge our own paths and create our own destinies? Only time would tell.

Irving's ingredients are all here: humor, a circus atmosphere, a dysfunctional family squared, Freudian taints with every catalogable path and deviation of sex, and a touch of blood. But just like in front of those overly stuffed pizzas, I had the sensation of a dish that was far too elaborate. I felt the lack of that delicious, divine balance found in Garp and Owen Meany. Characters and situations that go beyond the lines are fine, okay, but if you don't dose them a bit, you risk slipping here and there into a banal peep-show. And then: yet another coming-of-age novel, yet again the first-person narrator who in the family seems to be the one "with his head on straight" dealing with a complicated puberty. Irving and his freak fixations; despite everything, he always manages to make us laugh with his extremely dark humor. And of course, in every one of his novels, there is always a memorable character who manages to make his way even into the hearts of the most skeptical; this time, the palm for the best undoubtedly goes to the old Iowa Bob coach.

The bear understands this as well: making life less serious is both hard work and a great art. Prostitutes are also aware of this.

John Irving is striving to pen the perfect novel. Each time he completes a book, he looks back and frowns, deeming it still not good enough. So, he returns to the planning stage and begins anew. As readers, we should be grateful for his determination and his integrity towards his art. Even as he reuses favorite themes, imagery, and types of characters, Irving remains true to his vision of hope against all odds in a world that is overly serious for its own good. Sometimes, you require a bear riding in the sidecar of a derelict motorcycle to assist you through the dark times.

Every child should grow up in a strange hotel, don't you agree?

The Berry family, consisting of parents Win and Mary, children Frank, Franny, John, Lilly, and Egg, grandfather Iowa Bob, a pet dog named Sorrow, and a trained bear named 'State of Maine', is taking over an abandoned school building in the small town of Dairy and transforming it into something else. The first Hotel New Hampshire is the result of Win Berry's dreams, first nurtured in the summer of 1939 when he met Mary and the bear on the coast of Maine while serving as temporary staff at a fashionable resort.

Life is never dull in the Hotel New Hampshire.

The novel commences as a romantic interlude on the eve of war, the fading splendor of a lost generation, flavored with Irving's signature black humor and strange characters. A wandering Jew named Freud, with his elderly bear nicknamed 'State of Maine', is entertaining guests and temporary workers like Win and Mary, inspiring a form of rebellion against a life without surprises and passion. A mythical figure of an elegant man dressed in a white tuxedo, emerging from the moonlit waters of the bay, will later be revealed to be a reference to F. Scott Fitzgerald and his Gatsby character: the dreamer who rejects the world as it is and attempts to recast it in his own vision. Fitzgerald is also later used as a reference for the writer who crafted the perfect ending to a novel.

“Everything is screwed down in the Hotel New Hampshire; in the Hotel New Hampshire, we're screwed down for life!”

Children raised by such a non-conformist family and in such an unusual setting as an improvised hotel are likely to develop strong, unconventional personalities. Familiarity with other novels written by the same author will aid in identifying recurring themes and overlaps with those other novels. As I mentioned earlier, Irving is the kind of writer who begins with autobiographical elements and transforms them into universal truths through the power of his imagination. So, it was no surprise to me when I encountered references to things like the circus, midgets, weightlifting/wrestling, campus life, literature teaching, rape crisis centers, tattoos/taxidermy, Vienna/psychotherapy, oddball sexuality, and trauma.

Of all these elements, trauma is the most powerful in shaping the life of the Berry family. Despite all the comedy and the free-spirited mentality of the household, their life is defined by pain and loss.

Sorrow floats. We knew that. We shouldn't have been surprised.

Time and again, life sends the Grim Reaper to block the path forward for Franny and Frank, John and Lilly, and Egg. The focus of the novel, as the Berry's first foray into the hotel industry stumbles and flounders, shifts to post-war Vienna, where their old acquaintance Freud, now an old blind man with a new pet bear named Susie, is inviting them to take over his own derelict hotel in the town center. The second Hotel New Hampshire is about to take off!

It was as if the power of his dreaming was so vivid that he felt compelled to simply act out whatever future he imagined – and we were being asked to tolerate his absence from reality, and maybe his absence from our lives, for a while. That is what “pure love” is: the future.

Win Berry, the indomitable dreamer in the family, is the driving force behind the move to Vienna. The personal price the family has to pay is high, and for seven long years, the children must learn how to cope with their profound sadness. The elements of black humor and the theme of sexual abuse/sexual liberation continue under the guidance of the twin teachers residing in the second Hotel New Hampshire: the semi-legal prostitutes on the third floor and the group of anarchist revolutionaries on the top floor. Between the lobby and the various inhabitants moves Susie the bear, another victim of sexual abuse.

She is a symbol for all the sexually wounded, which is what the 'Hotel New Hampshire' is about.

Violence, psychoanalysis, literature (with a reading of Melville's 'Moby Dick'), Arthur Schnitzler's bedroom excesses, sexual identity, and family connections can all be condensed into one phrase that defines both the Vienna interlude and the novel as a whole:

“Keep passing the open windows”

Hang in there, Frank and Franny and John and everyone else – no matter how bleak and desperate life becomes, it's still better than the alternative. The words from an urban legend about a depressive clown who couldn't take it anymore and jumped from a high window become the Berry family catchphrase. Father Win Berry, about to become a hero in a formidable apocalyptic scene at the end of the Vienna sojourn, is the one who explains the significance of the meme to the reader:

“Human beings are remarkable – at what we can learn to live with. If we couldn't get strong from what we lose, and what we miss, and what we want and can't have, then we couldn't ever get strong ‘enough’, could we? What else makes us strong?”

The stronger Berry family, such as it is after the Vienna debacle, relocates back to New York, and the children attempt to find their place in the world as adults. Before they can do so, there are still unresolved issues from the past – like dealing with repressed memories and the denial of deeply inflicted wounds.

The New York episode is memorable for me due to the inclusion of poetry as an integral part of the narrative. At first, I thought that Donald Justice was an alter ego of the author, a means to include metaphor as a way to define the characters and their significance. Further research reveals that he is a real poet and a teacher of John Irving, one of the mentors who shaped him and helped him find his unique voice:

If what's best and clearest in him isn't in his poems, he wouldn't be a very good writer.

Metaphorically speaking, Donald Justice and John Irving will explain to us why we spent all this quality time in the company of the Berry family, in and out of one hotel after another. Like a good novel, a good hotel is there to provide a service we sometimes don't even know we need:

We've been in this business for years, and that's just what a good hotel does: it simply provides you with the space, and with the atmosphere, for what it is you ‘need’. A good hotel turns space and atmosphere into something generous, into something sympathetic – a good hotel makes those gestures that are like touching you, or saying a kind word to you, just when (and only ‘when’) you need it. A good hotel is always there but it doesn't give you the feeling that it's breathing down your neck.

I highly recommend a visit to this Hotel New Hampshire!