The story of Bo Mason and Else is a captivating one.

Bo is a talented dreamer, filled with wanderlust. He works tirelessly towards his dreams, yet they seem to constantly elude him.

Else, on the other hand, is an escapee from an unhappy home. She falls deeply in love with Bo at the age of 18, and soon they get married, have children, and face numerous hardships.

This is a great American saga that follows the main characters from adolescence to old age. It provides a vivid look at western North America (both the US and Canada) from the end of the 19th century to the mid-20th century.

The language in this story is at times so beautiful that it brings to mind the works of Thomas Hardy. I was so moved that I wept through the final chapter.

The Mason children also play a significant role in this story. Bo, in a way, represents America. He has so much potential, but instead of building steadily, he is constantly driven by an unquenchable need for something new. He is always on the lookout for the big score, which unfortunately never materializes.

Else loves Bo despite his flaws, including his inability to settle down, his harshness, and his immaturity. Bo's vibrance, although flawed, shines through. Else, however, must repeatedly sacrifice her desire for a settled life as Bo is pulled ever forward. She represents the more domestic side of America.

Their sons also take different paths. Chet inherits his father's athleticism but also his stubbornness and inability to admit mistakes, which ultimately leads him away from his dreams.

Perhaps the most American of all is Bruce, the mama's boy who eventually strikes out on his own to create a truly better life.

This story is a powerful exploration of love, dreams, and the American spirit.

Why couldn't Stegner be more straightforward and pen a book with an antagonist towards whom I could dispassionately direct my justifiable indignation?

Instead, he crafted "The Big Rock Candy Mountain" with Bo, who isn't one of Cormac McCarthy's morally corrupt wrongdoers. Surprisingly, and contrary to what one might think, Bo is me, just in different circumstances. When Bo lashes out at his children, disappoints his wife, or chases yet another pipe dream that he hopes will make him rich, it's me. How could he be anyone else? His emotions are mine, merely magnified. His intentions, thoughts, and dreams are also mine. Yet, when I look at him, at myself, it's with loathing. I want to look away, to deny his existence and that anyone could possibly write my story, place me in a different time (though much of the novel is set in the same place, Seattle) and expose my actions so brutally to anyone who cares to read. It's embarrassing and it hurts to turn the pages, but I couldn't stop. I had to know what I would do next. Surely I would redeem myself? Surely my kind heart would be sufficient to save those I love? Could Stegner truly understand my feelings and shortcomings better than I do myself? He did. He wrote them truthfully and tragically, and I'm better for having endured reading them. "The Big Rock Candy Mountain" is a course correction wrapped in a brilliantly written novel that gripped me like few books have ever done before.

There was no candy on Wallace Stegner's Big Rock Candy Mountain. But there was a rock that set heavily on my heart as I read, and the rock got bigger and bigger.

This novel, which consists of 576 pages and 10 parts spanning from the 1890s to the 1930s, is a long one. The journey up this mountain was quite painful and at times almost unbearable. Here's the reason.

The Big Rock Candy Mountain is a story about a man's unwavering pursuit of quick wealth and success, and the destruction it brought upon himself and his family. The Big Rock Candy Mountain was "that place of impossible loveliness" that Bo Mason, one of the key characters, coveted to his detriment.

As I was reading, I became increasingly disgusted with Bo and traumatized by his uncontrollable rage and the emotional harm he had caused to his wife and sons. I wanted this story to end. However, when it finally did, I felt an indescribable sense of loss. I gained a newfound respect for Stegner and his ability to convey his deep understanding of the complexity of human relationships. There is no simple hatred for a man's senseless and selfish acts, is there? Mixed in with it are intricate layers of other emotions, intertwined with episodic memories of happiness that contradict the accompanying anger, hardness, and rejection.

In 1905, Elsa Norgaard, an 18-year-old, left home to live with her uncle when her widowed father married her best friend. In North Dakota, she fell in love with Bo (Harry) Mason, who was then the owner of an illegal saloon. She married him and had two sons, Chet and Bruce. The marriage was strained by poverty and Bo's resentment of the constraints of responsibility. He had an obsessive need to constantly uproot the family in a futile attempt to obtain easy money. Adding to all this was Bo's history of being a victim of childhood abuse. Elsa and her sons lived in constant fear, powerless in the face of Bo's irascibility and maniacal aggression. The hardest parts to read were those where Bruce, a highly anxious child, was subjected to his father's rage, such as the much-anticipated Fourth of July picnic that didn't happen.

The reader is dragged along with the Mason family on an endless journey that spanned Oregon, Saskatchewan, Montana, Salt Lake City, California, and Reno, among other cities, wherever Bo hatched his dream of finding gold. In Bruce's recollection, "We never lived in any house in the United States for more than a year at a time. Since I was born, we've lived in two nations, ten states, fifty different houses." These moves were often triggered by getting on the wrong side of the law, which led to unimaginable shame and anxiety. The most heart-wrenching consequence of one such relocation was young Bruce having to leave behind a crippled colt he had nursed and discovering just as the family was driving off that Socks had been skinned for his hide. Bo did not have the capacity to understand, as Elsa did, that "You had to stay in a place to make it a home. A home had to be lived in every day, every month, every year for a long time, till it was worn like an old shoe and fitted the comfortable curvatures of your life." The novel explored the theme of home in a touching way. It was poignant that the frantic pursuit of candy did not add an ounce of happiness or peace to the Mason family's life. In Elsa's words: "I just want us to have a good, solid place in the world where nobody can shame us with anything." The price Bo paid for his wild dream was far too high.

In my opinion, some of the most powerful writing is in Parts VII to X and is bound up in Bruce's reflections, which I believe belong to Stegner. If you feel like giving up, as I did after Part II, keep reading. It will be worth it. I was touched by Stegner's kind assessment of what seemed like a wasted life. It took a generous heart to embrace a man's ambitions and violence and to recognize that there was love, no matter how flawed it was and how imperfectly it was expressed.

Published in 1943, this classic family saga offers a captivating exploration of the Mason family.

It begins in 1905 as Elsa leaves Minnesota for North Dakota, where she meets and falls in love with Bo. They marry and have two sons, Chet and Bruce. The family's life is marked by frequent moves as Bo chases after his latest get-rich-quick schemes, some of which involve illegal activities like rumrunning during Prohibition, much to the family's dismay.

The story is traditional in structure yet sweeping in scope, covering a vast area of the Northwestern US and Canada, including states like California, Nevada, Oregon, Montana, and more. Stegner vividly描绘s the natural elements such as mountains, prairies, droughts, floods, and blizzards that the frontier-dwelling family faces. The plot unfolds episodically, with each family member taking the spotlight in several chapters.

The characters are highly convincing. Bo, the restless dreamer, is charismatic yet temperamental, often clashing with his sons. Elsa, on the other hand, longs for stability and a peaceful family life,默默地 enduring the hardships caused by Bo's pursuits.

Bo's actions have a profound impact on his family, leading them to both love and hate him. His story is intertwined with major historical events like WWI, the 1918 Influenza, Prohibition, and the Great Depression.

Although this book is long and densely written, requiring a significant time commitment, it is one that is likely to leave a lasting impression.

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
There's a land that's fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day,
On the birds and the bees
And the cigarette trees.
The lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.

Bo Mason is a complex character. He's a dreamer who desires everything instantly, yet he's not truly lazy, unskilled, or criminal. His restlessness wears out those around him, especially his wife Elsa and their children. He constantly flirts with danger, justifying his actions in the pursuit of hitting it big.

It's not easy to simply hate Bo Mason. While it's straightforward to respect and love his beleaguered wife Elsa, there's something at the core of Bo that earns a grudging pity and understanding. He's like a trapped animal, his cruelty emerging from a place he can't control and often fails to recognize.

The book poses several thought-provoking questions. Are we predestined to be a certain type of person based on our childhood? Can a drifter like Bo force himself to settle down? Should a man abandon all his dreams upon taking on family responsibilities? Can we overcome childhood abuse and our urge to withdraw or retaliate? When we've built a life around running from adversity, can we learn to stay and fight through tough times? And, can we ever truly change who we are? Additionally, does love really conquer all?
To me, the saddest thing about Bo Mason is that he wishes for all the wrong things when the right things might be right in front of him. I can't help but think of the many men I've met in my life who are like him, believing that money can solve everything. However, beyond a certain level of need, money can only buy things, not true happiness.
Love is a mysterious force. It makes us hold onto someone when we know we should let go. It leads us to reject the respectable and kind suitor in favor of the wild, unpredictable, and sometimes cruel man who stirs our heart and soul. Love manifests in various ways, and sometimes it's difficult to express even when deeply felt. Hate, on the other hand, is its mirror image, so closely related that I dare say one can only truly hate someone they truly love. After all, isn't it love that makes us vulnerable to the hurts and stings we would never tolerate from a stranger?
If I had to offer one criticism of this novel, it would be that it could potentially be shortened without sacrificing its impact. I understand it's autobiographical, and it's easy to believe because it feels so personal in parts. The characters here are not one-dimensional; they're all shades of grey. And if we're being honest, isn't that the fundamental truth? Truly evil people are rare, and saints are almost non-existent.

This story spans an impressive 30 years during the early part of the 20th century, vividly depicting the arduous struggles of a family throughout those years.

As I followed the lives of the Mason family - Bo, Elsa, and their sons Chet and Bruce - there were indeed moments when I thought I would rate this book only 3 stars. Some areas of the tale seemed to drag and bored me to a certain extent.

However, as I approached the finish line, I knew without a doubt that this would be a solid 4-star read. The characters in this story are so incredibly true to life and well-defined that it's impossible not to become completely engrossed in their journey.

This is one of those rare stories that has the power to grip your emotions tightly. At times, it fills you with intense anger and disgust, while at others, it evokes a melancholy poignancy or even downright heartbreak.

I can clearly understand why this is considered a classic. In fact, I'm rather surprised that I don't see it being more widely read among my contacts. Admittedly, the synopsis might not seem overly enticing at first glance, but in my humble opinion, this book is truly a hidden gem waiting to be discovered by more readers.

What occurs when a beautiful and gentle woman, unaccustomed to physical hardships, ties the knot with a stubborn, nomadic adventurer who has an itch for excitement and a daredevil spirit, hell-bent on realizing the American dream and "making his pile" by any means possible?

We surely find out.

This is Stegner's second novel, epic in both length and scope when compared to his first book, a novella titled Remembering Laughter. In it, he discovers what works and what doesn't, and it's a wonderful gift for the reader to witness that learning process unfold.

For instance, the dialogue among the multiple protagonists in The Big Rock Candy Mountain sounds a bit stilted in some places. However, it either improves as the story progresses or perhaps I simply got acclimatized to it.

In one sense, the novel has a Chekhovian feel: it's like a portrait. The main plot frequently shifts from one setting to another, but the overall arc is relatively small. Some scenes and situations drag on a bit too long, slowing down the tempo and resulting in an uneven rhythm. And yet, I will never forget the image of Bo summoning courage, defiance, and joy as he undertakes that impossible whiskey run in treacherous winter conditions.

Other scenes surprise the reader with out-of-character, expository devices such as journal-writing. Son Bruce does this when he wants to解开 the mystery of his father's character and his own feelings about him—"Yet it's important to remember that he isn't a monster, as I used to think he was." Or like philosophizing at the wheel about what "home" means for the son of a footloose family, which Bruce does when he drives westward across the Dakota plain to join his parents. "As long as the road ran west he didn't want to stop, because that was where he was going, west beyond the Dakotas toward home."

That, by the way, is one beautiful soliloquy as Bruce untangles the difference between "home" and "place." Home is "where the bluebird sings to the lemonade springs," on the Big Rock Candy Mountain. Stegner's passion for the west soars sky-high on silver wings.

Despite these minor criticisms, I probably should have given the book four stars. But I relished the opportunity to peek into a new author exploring his immense talent, pushing against boundaries, allowing himself to be charmed by details, and experimenting with different techniques. The imperfect passages are still touched with greatness. It's like seeing an early Monet or van Gogh.

Also, as further justification for my decision to award five stars, I am unabashedly in love with Stegner. Yes, my husband is aware.

The Big Rock Candy Mountain by Wallace Stegner is often regarded as the closest work to an autobiographical account of his own childhood. It tells the emotionally captivating story of the fictional Mason family - Bo and Elsa, and their two sons, Chester and Bruce. The similarities between their experiences and Stegner's childhood are quite striking.

The Mason family was constantly on the move as Bo Mason got involved in one scheme after another. In the early 20th century, many were chasing the dream of quick wealth while moving westward, and Bo was no exception. He tried various ventures, including farming, running a hotel, and even rum-running during Prohibition. Elsa, on the other hand, did everything she could to make each new place feel like home as the family searched for their own version of The Big Rock Candy Mountain.

This story is both heartbreaking and beautiful. At times, the family's struggles seem insurmountable, but there are also moments of hope and joy. The quotes from the book add depth and insight into the characters' mindsets. For example, the idea of a place where money could be made easily and life was full of adventure and unrestricted freedom is a powerful one that many people can relate to. The concept of home is also explored, with Elsa longing to be part of something bigger and to have a house filled with the details of a deeply lived-in life.

Overall, The Big Rock Candy Mountain is a rich and unforgettable classic that offers a glimpse into a bygone era and the human desire for a better life.

What Stegner might refer to as a big three-master, this family saga, which is quasi-autobiographical, traces the Mason family's journey. It begins from their ignominious Midwestern roots and follows them through a series of get-rich-quick blunders. These missteps take them from Oregon to Saskatchewan, then to Montana, Salt Lake, and finally to Reno.

Objectively narrated, the book's emotional compass is the family's youngest son, who is Stegner's version of himself. The catharsis in this book is what makes its best moments remarkably fine, yet it overloads the circuitry in the later passages, marring what would otherwise be a masterpiece.

One of Joyce's architectural strokes of genius was to displace the emotional core of Ulysses away from Stephen, and thus, himself, onto Bloom. Stegner, however, takes an opposite path. He grinds the heart of his fictive stand-in until the prose starts to come undone, much like how An Incredible Work of Staggering Genius is at its best when emotion is channeled through cleverness.

Still, Stegner is one of the very few Western writers who had both the fortune to witness the transformation of an agrarian frontier society into the modern mess of vacuous dead spaces and exploited wilderness that it is today. He also has the abilities to write about it in an enduring manner. Stegner's work does not sag into a diminutive genre like most Western writing does. Just as Steinbeck's California or Joyce's Ireland, the West in Stegner functions as a foil for the Universal, not as the object of a sentimental and defective paean.

As he elaborates in more detail in his non-fiction work, Stegner's childhood experience of extreme poverty in the go-for-broke villages, derelict hotels, isolated farms, and logging camps of pre-New Deal America taught him that the Individual, that Goliath of Right Coast American Mythology, cannot survive the brutality of the Western landscape. The plot of Stegner's book, and in many ways the core of his thinking, is that rather than a society of neatly spaced Individuals striving towards transcendence, the unforgiving reality of the West (its poverty, its harsh weather, and most importantly, its aridity) forces people to cling to one another for survival, in a delicate balance between dependence and destruction.

As he explains in his essays on the West, it is the West's aridity (which, in Stegner's thinking, is, like geology, a metaphor of vast proportions that inevitably is a metaphor for itself) that gives rise to one of the West's most visible features: bunch grass, the clumps of meager, yellow grass that dot the desolate range. In the West, even the grass has to huddle together to survive.

This is an truly amazing book. It is a captivating novel that tells the story of a family residing in the western part of Canada and the United States during the first three decades of the 20th century.

Stegner's characters are exquisitely drawn. Even though they are not always admirable, the reader can still identify with them. This makes the reading experience all the more engaging and relatable.

The writing style is graceful and elegant. The descriptions of the landscapes are extremely memorable, painting a vivid picture in the reader's mind. As someone who lives in the Western U.S., many of the locations mentioned in the novel are familiar to me, which adds an extra layer of depth and enjoyment to the reading.

Stegner is undoubtedly one of America's great writers of the twentieth century. And this particular book is definitely one of his best works, showcasing his remarkable talent and literary prowess. It is a must-read for anyone who loves a good story and beautiful writing.

Plagiarism is a serious issue that has long plagued the literary world.

Years ago, I delved into every pioneer diary written by women in the west that I could get my hands on. There were dozens of them. While men on the Oregon trail often talked about the places they passed through, women recorded the births and deaths, the struggles and losses that humans endured. One well-known journal of the Oregon trail didn't even mention the birth of the author's child, but his wife did, and she also described being called upon to travel many miles and assist with a birth in another group. When I read a particular novel, I was shocked to find that many of the stories, most notably those of Stegnor, were lifted directly from these primary sources without any attribution.

He used the material from these sources without properly crediting or even mentioning the original authors, who in every case I know of were women. Since he has glorified the men and largely downplayed the role of women in this novel, I couldn't help but feel irritated. I managed to finish the novel, but it was a real struggle. When I was teaching academic writing, we had a specific term for what he did: cite your sources!

As I later discovered, he did the same thing in The Angle of Repose. Over the years, it has become a famous case, written about time and time again as each new generation discovers his transgressions. A local historian pointed out that Stegnor was himself a historian, and he used that as an excuse for his failure to properly credit his sources. In The Angle of Repose, he not only lifted entire paragraphs from Foote but also borrowed the metaphor of his title.

Surprisingly, people still idolize the author. His case is a prime example of what is known as "white privilege." I keep hoping that the conservative icon, Stanford, will reevaluate him as a figurehead, but I highly doubt they will.

An epic family saga of a book.

How do we measure a person? Or a life? How do we determine if a choice was "right" or not? Especially when what begins as a dream ends as a nightmare?

Bo, a dreamer, entrepreneur, future-focused, and restless individual, hooks up with Elsa, who is forgiving, patient, steady, and settled. Love grows in mysterious ways. However, it is challenged when the sparks fly between these very different people. Add two sons with their own personalities and challenges, and you have a recipe for extraordinary fireworks. Especially when these planets and moons must circle the Bo-sun, dragged across the universe of possibilities. When the focus is on making a living rather than making a home, things are going to be left untended. Especially for developing hearts.

We travel a short lifetime with these characters as they make their personal ways through historical times such as the Spanish flu, prohibition, gold rush, and the beginning of gambling, trying to stay afloat financially and relationally. It's a rough road, and it has left some damage along the way. It would be easy to fault Bo for the damage, but Stegner fleshes him out as damaged himself in ways that bring some compassion to the judgment. It's not always easy to fit into the boxes of life, and these characters all reflect that reality, particularly this flawed husband and father. Sometimes one's best is simply not good enough.