Marco Rossari claims in the fourth cover page and the preface that this novel is "a fucking mountain". However, someone on Goodreads has compared it to a river instead. I embrace both definitions. I felt like I was on a rough path for the entire first part and was carried away by the current in the second part.

"He not only wanted to know where his flock had ended up, but also where the river, the bank, and everything that had something to do with his life had ended up. Where is my world? he wanted to know, and where the hell am I if I can't find myself anymore? He had lost his way and was flying over the river, cursing his soul."

This is a polyphonic, experimental, and mammoth novel that catapults you into a small town in Oregon in the early 1960s, among crude loggers and union struggles. It is filled with reflections on family, belonging to a community, the relationship between man and a nature that has no desire to be tamed, but also between the public and private faces, the ghosts of the past, and the fear of the future.

But above all, the style reigns supreme here. In the same paragraph, the reader is enveloped by the voices of various characters, without a map and without warning. Obviously, at the beginning, one is a bit disoriented (to be honest, I didn't understand a thing for quite some time) but somehow after a while, the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, you start to distinguish the different voices and put order in the chaos, and what comes out is a complex picture in which every brushstroke and every nuance has an indispensable role in the composition of the whole. And the circle, in the end, closes.

The chapters are long, extremely long, sixty, eighty, one hundred pages, and there is one in particular, in the last third of the book, that wraps you up and leaves you breathless, and there you really have the feeling of having been thrown into the water and not being able to get out of this damned river that wraps you up and carries you downstream like the freshly cut trunks. A very long alternating sequence that only asks to be transposed to the cinema, a climax that grows thunderously like the water level, a very strong sense of anticipation, and an event that will accompany my thoughts for a long time to come.

A book that tells the story of a head-strong and macho jerk. Despite having numerous reasons to change his ways, he stubbornly persists in being a jerk. He decides to build a house on the bank of a raging river in Oregon. From then on, he spends the rest of his life engaged in a never-ending battle to prevent the river from washing his house away. This pursuit comes at a great cost, straining his relationship with his children and wife. The book also delves into the logger's red-neck history and how it has had a profound impact on his children. I found myself hating the guy for his actions and choices. However, I couldn't help but be captivated by the writing and the story itself. The words "red-neck," "drowning," and "rain" add a certain flavor and atmosphere to the narrative, making it even more engaging and memorable.

Sometimes a Great Notion is a complex and engaging novel by Ken Kesey. The story begins with a strange sight - a severed arm dangling from a pole at the Stamper home. The hand is tied in a way that seems to be giving the finger to onlookers. The reader may initially be confused by the unidentified time period shifts, changes in character, narrator, and events. However, if one sticks with the story or reads it multiple times, it eventually makes sense.

The novel is set in the logging community of Wakonda, Oregon in the 1960s. The ever-expanding river dominates the area, and only the Stamper house is defiantly anchored to the eroding riverbank. The Stamper Clan consists of dozens of kinfolk, but the main characters are Henry, his son Hank, wife Viv, cousin Joe Ben, his wife Jan and their kids, and Hank's estranged half-brother Lee. The Stampers are defying the union and townsfolk who are striking against the big timber company. They run their own mill and logging company and refuse to join the strike, which makes them scabs.
The story unfolds through various narrators, flashing back and forward in time as we learn the history of the Stamper family. There are many memorable stories, such as little Hank rescuing bobcat kittens and the family patriarch's gift of a religious plaque that is defiled into a new motto. Lee Stamper returns home after a 12-year absence, planning to harm his half-brother Hank. However, he ends up doing well with the rigors of logging and begins to seduce Viv.
Contention in the town against the Stampers gradually increases, leading to vandalism, sabotage, rumors, assault and battery, arson, and even harassment of their kids at school. A tree mishap severs Henry's arm and pins Joe Ben underwater. Hank tries to save Joe but fails, and Henry dies in the hospital. At this point, Hank initially gives up on the logging. However, Lee successfully seduces Viv, and the brothers fight. In the end, they join forces and bring their logs down the river to the lumber mill, victorious.
The novel is over 600 pages long and has detailed descriptions of flora, fauna, and the river. Some parts are quite good, while others can be tiresomely long. The audio version, narrated by Tom Stechschulte, is over 30 hours of reading time. Overall, Sometimes a Great Notion is a thought-provoking and engaging novel that explores themes of family, loyalty, and the struggle between labor and capital.

Sometimes a Great Notion • by Ken Kesey (1935 – 2001)
(Published 1964)

The story kicks off with the strangeness of a severed arm hanging from a pole jutting out over the river from the second story of the Stamper home. Even more peculiar, the fingers are tied in a manner that makes the hand appear to be giving any onlookers the finger. Here, the reader might become perplexed by the unidentified shifts in time period, changes in character, narrator, and events - following the story seems like far too much work to enjoy. At times, the writing seems so muddled that one might expect Randle Patrick McMurphy to wake up from this; a nightmare brought on by his lobotomy. Author Kesey also penned the 5-star book, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

If you persevere with this story or read it multiple times, it does eventually make sense.

The logging community of Wakonda, Oregon in the 1960s is dominated by the ever-expanding river. Due to this erosive expansion, there are no homes near the river, except for one. Only the seemingly defiant Stamper house is elaborately anchored to the eroding riverbank.

The Stamper Clan includes dozens of relatives, but in the famous riverside house live; the old man Henry; his son and head of the company Hank with wife Viv; cousin Joe Ben, his wife Jan and their kids; and Hank's estranged half-brother Leland / Lee. They are defying the union and townspeople who are striking against the big timber company. The Stampers operate their own mill and logging company and have refused to join the strike. The Stampers are scabbing, continuing to fill orders, and so the big regional lumber company has no incentive to settle the strike, as long as the Stampers continue to supply them with all the timber they need.

The union representative Jonathan Draeger mediated an agreement with the scabbing Stampers, but for some reason, Hank Stamper reneged and erected the dangling arm. Draeger discusses it with Viv, who wants him to look through the family photo album she is holding. The photo album sets the stage for telling the family tales. From here, we flash back and forward with various narrators as we learn the history of the Stamper family, all the good and bad over many decades.

One memorable story is about little Hank. As a child, he rescued 3 bobcat kittens from a blackberry thicket and carefully caged, cared for, and loved the little bobcats. The cage was too close to the river, and during a stormy night, flooding and erosion carried away the kittens and cage. Another story tells of the family patriarch and his gift of a religious plaque that old man Henry defiled into a new motto, \\"NEVER GIVE A INCH.\\" [sic]

Lee Stamper was failing, even at suicide, when a postcard arrived from Hank asking him to come home and assist with the logging business. Lee ends his 12-year absence and returns home. He also plans to harm his half-brother Hank. Years earlier, Lee's mom (Henry's second wife) slept with her stepson Hank. Young Lee spied on his mother through a hole in the wall (Norman Bates style) and blames his brother for the affair rather than his pedophile mother who seduced the teenage Hank. Mom and Lee eventually left home, went back east, and some months ago, mom jumped to her death.

Although he is a city slicker and college graduate, Lee does well with the rigors of logging and begins his seduction of Viv. Tension in the town against the Stampers gradually rises, including vandalism, sabotage, rumors, assault and battery, arson, and even harassment of their kids at school. Some relatives abandon the family, and only the core group soldiers on with the logging. A tree accident severs Henry's arm and pins Joe Ben underwater. Hank tries valiantly to save Joe, but he drowns, and Henry will die in the hospital. At this point, with the injury, death, and other events, Hank initially gives up on the logging.

Lee successfully seduces Viv, his half-brother's beloved wife. And so he does harm his brother, but Viv will not run off with him. The brothers fight; Lee wants to gain sympathy from Viv and frame Hank as a dangerous bully. Hank, for his part, is just giving his brother the beating he deserves. Refusing to admit defeat, Lee does not leave but joins Hank in victoriously bringing their logs down the river to the lumber mill. Henry's severed arm serves as a signal to their detractors - they failed to stop the Stampers.

Now Viv is leaving them both. She is waiting for her bus, with the photo album, when the union man Jonathan Draeger comes to talk with her. Here, the story returns to the present day and the dangling arm. Through the bus window, Viv can make out the figures of Hank and Lee with all the logs on the river.

It is a very long story, over 600 pages, with detailed descriptions of flora, fauna, and the river, and plenty of that rambling writing that becomes increasingly tiresome. You are well into the story when Lee leaves New York and returns home to Oregon, but the story at that point is just getting started. The audio version is expertly narrated by Tom Stechschulte and is over 30 hours of listening time.

Some parts are quite good, while others are tiresomely long.



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Before one gets overly excited about my lofty rating, it's important to note that this book demands a great deal of focus and discipline from the reader. Kesey's writing style is nothing short of pure chaos. There are zero transitions between the narration of multiple characters, whether it's inner or outer dialogue, and also between past and present events. However, despite this seeming disorder, a clear plot and storyline manage to remain intact throughout. So, yes, the book is indeed a general mess, but it's a beautiful one at that. It represents pure Americana at its finest, deftly detailing major themes such as the burden and stain of family history, revenge, man vs. nature, man vs. man, masculinity vs. femininity, and so on. And as the plot weaves its way through, I can't help but feel that it's simply a love letter to Oregon and its streams and coast. It's a book that you'll definitely want to read again a few more times, each time uncovering new layers and nuances.

Living in the beautiful Willamette Valley, I had multiple opportunities to catch a glimpse of Ken Kesey. I saw him in downtown Eugene, at the MacDonald Theater, and even at the vibrant Saturday Market. He had a local following that seemed to elevate him and his friends to an almost rock-star status. My husband, who had gone to high school with his son, described a Ken Kesey who was different from the Merry Prankster charter member and his public persona.

One late spring afternoon, as we were driving from Springfield towards Pleasant Hill, we came upon a big old convertible, perhaps a Caddy. The man at the wheel had a grin on his face and the wind was ruffling his greying hair. As we took the turns on the windy, rural road behind the big car, I realized it was Kesey. At that time, I was struggling with my unfulfilled desire to write and my fear of a future as a bank employee or an accountant, or something equally as dreadful and cubicleized. I was so impressed by Kesey's peaceful smile that it gave me the encouragement to continue with my art. I longed for that same peace-filled, unworried smile that I imagined could only come from unleashing that level of creativity into the world.
Rather than remembering Kesey as the Merry Prankster, I choose to think of him as the creativity-filled young man who spent time in the logging communities of Mapleton and Noti. There, he learned about the people, the communities, and the way of life that he so vividly wrote about in his book.

This image of Kesey has stayed with me and continues to inspire me in my own creative pursuits.

This is a sprawling, epic novel that delves into the lives of an American family residing in a small lumber town on the Oregon coast. The grudges they hold are at the heart of the story. Oregon is vividly evoked, almost becoming one of the central characters itself. This is why it's often seen on lists like "25 Best Pacific Northwest Reads".

Ken Kesey's "Sometimes a Great Notion" is truly one of the most unique novels I've ever encountered. The narrative voice has the propensity to change multiple times within a single paragraph. One has to really settle into the rhythm of this, which isn't overly difficult. However, the inclusion of occasionally antiquated language and some rather uninteresting subplots make getting through it a bit of a challenge.

I managed to breeze through the first 200 pages quite well. I was enjoying myself. But the following 250 pages or so, until things start to pick up again around page 470, were a real struggle. To be honest, I kind of lost interest during that stretch. I can't even recall much of what was in those pages.

The story of the Stampers, the family at the core of the narrative, is quite compelling and almost Homeric. But then there are all these subplots involving the townspeople themselves, with characters like "Indian Jenny". I just wasn't engaged enough to truly get into those stories. Other reviewers rave about the guy who ran the old cinema or the barman who watered down the drinks, but I was just skimming over those parts.

Reading these reviews makes me feel like I might need to read this again, but I'm not about to spend another month on it. Have you ever read a book and felt like you got lost in it, but not in a good way? Like your attention just completely faded away? Well, that sums up my reading experience for a large part of this.

This is like those old books you'd get assigned in English class. Really tough to read, especially at that age, because so much of it just drags and you find your mind wandering to other things. Like that last book you read about trees and the irony of the different attitudes towards tree-cutting in the two stories.

I'm not sure why this isn't a 400-page book instead of 630. I think Kesey could have benefited from a good editor. But who am I to judge? Others seem to like it just fine. For what it's worth, I liked it okay too. I was eager to reach the conclusion to see how things would turn out for the two brothers, Hank and Leeland. But there's just so much other stuff here that I didn't care for.

The townspeople? Meh, I could have done without them. I understand the background of the strike, with Hank Stamper being a protagonist almost out of an Ayn Rand novel, but I don't need this much detail on these minor players.

Maybe that's why this book isn't as well-known today as it perhaps should be. There is a great book hidden within, but it can be hard to find at times.

Reading this, I was reminded of Jorge Luis Borges' supposed comment about Gabriel García Márquez's "One Hundred Years of Solitude", that it should have been called "50 Years of Solitude" because the 100-year version was too long. Perhaps "Sometimes a Great Notion" should have been called "Sometimes a Good Notion" if it meant we could have trimmed 200 pages. That would have saved some trees too.

As far as notions go, I'd say that's a pretty good one.

This is the sixth time I've delved into this novel. The very first encounter was way back in 1971 when I was a youthful twenty-one. As I look back now, it's astonishing to see just how profoundly it has influenced me, not only in my writing but also in my life. "Looking back a guy can always pick him out some top-notch reasons to explain what happened. … he can look back and say there was the why of it …" (p.450)

The story is set in a coastal logging town in Oregon in 1961. Henry Stamper is the epitome of the self-made man. He is brimming with confidence, fiercely independent, self-absorbed, vain, highly successful, and unyielding. His motto, "NEVER GIVE A INCH," which he painstakingly paints on a plank and nails above his baby son's bed, reflects his unwavering spirit. Hank, that son, grows up to be just like him, "well known as one of the Ten Toughest Hombres this side of the Rockies." (p,105)

Henry sires another son, Leeland, a "pantywaist" twelve years younger than Hank, with his second wife, Myra. Myra, a woman less than half his age, was "scored" by Henry on a trip back East specifically for the purpose of getting a wife. Lee grows up in Hank's shadow, and Hank even becomes Myra's lover. Lee witnesses this unfolding drama through a knothole in the bedroom wall. When Lee is twelve, Myra takes him back East to escape the harsh and depressing life in Oregon and the untamed Henry Stamper.

Fast forward to 1961, and Myra tragically leaps to her death, lovesick for Hank and deeply depressed. Leeland also fails in his attempt to take his own life. Coincidentally, the Oregon Stampers send Lee a note, requesting his help to meet a logging contract with Wakonda Pacific Inc. This contract puts the Stamper family at odds with the rest of the folks in Wakonda, who are unionized and on strike. The pot-smoking graduate student and failed suicider, Leeland, decides to go. He plots revenge on his big brother Hank, whom he sees as Superman, fancying himself as Captain Marvel – SHAZAM! By now, Hank has his own lovely wife, "Viv—an orphan he plucked out of a rural, Colorado melon-growing community—"an anomalous combination of demure coquetry and brazen diffidence." Lee hatches a plan to take Viv away from Hank. (The role of the wife at the Stamper's was to take care of the menfolk so they could deal with whatever needed dealing with.) Stealing Viv away from Hank would be the ultimate triumph.

The author, Ken Kesey, masterfully paints a stunning, realistic, and poetic portrait of coastal Oregon, logging, small towns, and "manly men." The characters and their personalities seem to leap right off the pages. The woods are dripping and depressing, and even the hound dogs have their own tales to tell.

Kesey, at the time of writing, was one of the first hippies and Acid Heads. (Tom Wolfe tells his story in The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test.) No doubt heavily influenced by the mind-expanding drugs he used, Kesey breaks new ground in storytelling. This novel remains one of the greatest ever written for its unique voice, style, vivid characterization, and descriptive power. My only gripe is with the ending of the final chapter. Kesey seemed to have lost the voice and vision he had maintained so powerfully in the first 550 pages. Maybe it was the publisher's pressure to finish? Maybe it was just weariness. Endings are always a challenge, no matter what. Nevertheless, the story is timeless, as relevant today as it was then. People still blame others, the weather, and the government for their problems. Small men (and women) still try to bring down big men from their pedestals, and big men still refuse to give in. Little men still live in delusion, and big men still do what needs to be done. And the sage advice to always keep your eye on the doughnut and not the hole still holds true. As my own father said, "Illegittimus Non carburondum." Five stars and more!

Most people are only familiar with Ken Kesey, the novelist, due to his renowned work One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. However, some also know him as the grand master of the Merry Pranksters, who were involved in all kinds of counter-cultural madness. The famous saying "Either you're on the bus or you're off the bus" is associated with him.

His second novel, Sometimes A Great Notion, is a long, deep, and somewhat experimental work that is also regarded as his masterpiece. I dedicated four days to reading the 628 pages of this book. During the last two days, I read over 200 pages each day because once I managed to get through the rather challenging beginning, I became increasingly captivated with each passing day. If you have a penchant for long novels, this one is truly worth your time and effort.

The novel centers around an Oregon logging clan, delving into their struggles, successes, and deep-seated family problems. At times, it seems as if the Stampers are on the verge of failure, but you won't find out their ultimate fate until the very end.

The characters in this novel are fully fleshed out and heroic, the dysfunction is desperate, and the writing about the people, the location, the weather, and the physical and emotional strife is glorious. The eccentricity in the face of change and the sheer cussedness are truly remarkable!

John Steinbeck is perhaps the most famous writer of the American West, known for his novel The Grapes of Wrath. Both Kesey and Steinbeck attended Stanford University and wrote about the plight of the common man. Although they were a generation apart, I would wager that Kesey read Steinbeck. My favorite Steinbeck novel is East of Eden, and I believe that Sometimes a Great Notion was Kesey's equivalent of East of Eden.

Sometimes a Great Notion is an outstanding and audacious work by Ken Kesey. It firmly establishes him as one of the prominent literary figures of his era.

This epic novel, set against the wild and beautiful backdrop of the Pacific Northwest, is a captivating exploration of family relationships, class conflicts, and the indomitable spirit of the individual. Without a doubt, it is a five-star read.

The story revolves around the Stamper family, who own and run a logging business in Oregon. They are unwavering, defying both the forces of nature and the local union that tries to undermine their independent operation. The conflict intensifies when Leland Stamper, the educated and estranged younger son, returns home, carrying a seething resentment towards his older brother, Hank.

Kesey's portrayal of the Stamper family is raw, authentic, and nuanced. The characters are deeply flawed yet charmingly human. The family and personal tensions between Hank and Leland Stamper form the emotional heart of the story, giving the novel its dramatic weight.

Sometimes a Great Notion is a testament to Kesey's storytelling skills. He experiments with multiple perspectives and streams of consciousness, which can be challenging at times but ultimately enriches the reader's understanding of the characters' inner lives. This narrative choice, combined with Kesey's rich, vivid language and detailed descriptions of the rugged Oregon landscape, gives the novel a unique and engaging voice.

What makes Sometimes a Great Notion truly remarkable is its exploration of complex themes such as individuality, defiance, brotherhood, and the often harsh reality of the American Dream. It is a novel of contradictions,展现ing the nobility and ugliness, the joy and despair, the unity and division of the human condition.

In conclusion, Sometimes a Great Notion is a beautifully complex and fulfilling novel. It can be demanding and challenging, but the reward is an immersive narrative experience that lingers long after the final page. With its evocative setting, well-developed characters, and unflinching examination of life's intricacies, this book easily merits its five-star rating. It is not just a great idea but a great novel.

This book is truly mind-blowingly amazing.

The first 100 pages might seem like a real slog, as if you're swimming upstream against a strong current. However, once you manage to get into the story, it's like being caught in a powerful river current that simply won't let you go.

It's a quintessential Northwest read, filled with the unique charm and atmosphere of that region. The descriptions are vivid, the characters are well-developed, and the plot is engaging and thought-provoking.

I highly recommend this book for anyone looking for a moving, memorable, and challenging read. It will take you on an emotional journey and leave you with a deeper understanding of the human experience. Whether you're a fan of Northwest literature or just looking for a great book to get lost in, this one is definitely worth checking out.

Big 4.5 ⭐️

Logging. Brothers. Pacific Northwest. These are just a few of the elements that make this novel an absolute gem. It was a phenomenal read, and I'm so glad it was my first Kesey.

The story is set in the beautiful yet harsh landscape of the Pacific Northwest, where two brothers are involved in the logging industry. The author's description of the region is so vivid that you can almost feel the rain and smell the pine trees.

What I found most remarkable about this novel is its writing style. It's the most Faulkneresque I've ever read, with its complex sentences and rich language. The author weaves a web of emotions and relationships that keep you on the edge of your seat from beginning to end.

In conclusion, this is a must-read for anyone who loves great literature. It's a powerful and moving story that will stay with you long after you've turned the last page.

Perhaps the most renowned novel to have emerged from Oregon is Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. It delves into the lives of some patients in a psychiatric hospital. Some events in that novel are based on Kesey’s own experiences when he was employed in such an institution in Oregon. However, it is in his later work, Sometimes a Great Notion, that Kesey endeavors to convey something of the experience of living in Oregon.

The novel focuses on the logging industry, specifically on a family of loggers, the Stampers. They are striving to fulfill a large contract and are engaged in a battle with the other loggers in the community who have unionized and are on strike. Due to the size of the contract (and perhaps also because of the scarcity of non-striking temporary help—though the novel seems somewhat unclear on this latter point), the family contacts one of its members, a young man who has lived in New York City for much of his life, to return to Oregon and assist with the logging. In this brother’s return to Oregon, not only is the familiar theme of the clash between an urban liberal culture and a conservative rural culture symbolized, but also the contrasts between the pioneer and the modern mentality.

One way Kesey portrays this clash is through the experimental technique of presenting the story from shifting points of view, using different members of the Stamper family to narrate different parts of the story. Additionally, while not narrated by them, some parts of the story are presented from the perspective of several minor characters. Some of you might be reminded of William Faulkner. There are these similarities and perhaps others between these two novelists that can be explored. However, while the narrative techniques of Faulkner’s work are highly controlled, there is a spontaneity to Kesey’s use of the device. This is reflected, for example, in the way the point of view can shift very abruptly from one character to another, often in the middle of a paragraph, and sometimes even in the middle of a sentence. Not only does this heighten the dramatic tension of the events in the story, but it also draws attention to the differences in cultural background among the different characters (particularly the two brothers, one of whom was a high school football player and a soldier and now works as a logger, and the other of whom is a university-educated urbanite). At the same time, the manner in which the representation of one character’s thought can blend into the representation of another character's thought contributes to suggesting the strength and depth of the familial ties among those characters. Indeed, the events of the story mainly stem from the history between the two brothers and the emotions associated with it.

In addition to its story, its characters, and Kesey’s psychological insights, the book is also worth reading for its vivid natural description. Kesey lived much of his life in Oregon, and the passages in this novel about the different types of birds, animals, and plants reflect his knowledge of and his profound connection with his natural surroundings.

Acquired Oct 15, 2010
Nine Lives Bookstore, San Antonio, TX