If I told someone to pick a setting, the funniest, most bizarre setting in the whole world, the last thing that they would say is a ward for the mentally insane.  But, somehow, it works: Ken Kesey creates the confinement of the ward in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest to provide hilarious antics, jokes, and random dialogue that make it truly funny. This is proven as Colonel Matterson stutters, “[t]he but-ter… is the Re-pub-li-can party” (104). Colonel Matterson, among other characters, have made me laugh until it hurts, cry until my face is sticky, and toy with my emotions time and time again, only to wrap up the story in one final heart-wrenching twist.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is an extremely intricate novel that is disguised as a simplistic story. On the outside, it just looks like a battle between good and evil, McMurphy and the Big Nurse, but when examined closer, it is so much deeper than that. Identity is a huge theme in the novel, whether discovering or rediscovering it. The narrator, Chief Bromden, is a prime example of this: “[b]ad as I wanted to go, it still made me smile a little to think about it: I had to keep on acting deaf if I wanted to hear at all” (209). At the start of the novel, Chief Bromden pretends he is deaf and mute in order to move around the ward and eavesdrop on the Big Nurse and her associates. With McMurphy’s appearance, however, Chief cannot hold it in any longer. He sees the “fog” – Chief’s war hallucinations – clearing and the “Combine” – his name for the government – loose power and steam when McMurphy arrives. Identity proves to be a recurring theme, not only in the novel, but also in my life. I have been to four different schools in my life, and, for some reason, I try to reinvent myself every time I transfer. I was usually the only Indian in my grade, and so I tried to suppress the fact that my heritage was a part of me in an attempt to fit in. Just like in the novel, my fake persona didn’t last forever. No matter how hard you try you can never suppress your true identity, and that is apparent in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

This novel was an emotional rollercoaster. At one moment, there would be a high, like when McMurphy led the great TV revolt of 1962 like the students in Dead Poets Society, and then there would be a striking low, like when McMurphy loses his steam altogether and the Big Nurse nearly takes away the tub room. The most shocking thing in the book, however, are the deaths, the untimely, heart-wrenching, and horrible deaths. These deaths have almost no foreshadowing or explanation. They are just there for the sake of symbolism and are used as plot devices to move the story along. I am not sure that Kesey realizes how fond the reader becomes of his characters. They are so well developed and become real in the reader’s imagination, so much so that they associate with and become attached to each character. Then, Kesey writes his brilliant characters ridiculous deaths, where they either die Of Mice and Men style – one friend killing another one – or, perhaps, get their fingers stuck in a pool grate: “[He] got his finger stuck some way in the grate that’s over the drain at the bottom of the pool, and neither the big lifeguard nor McMurphy nor the two black boys could pry him loose” (175).  One second this character is innocently talking to McMurphy, about to dive into the pool, next he jumps in  - and actually gets his fingers, yes his fingers, stuck in the grate - and proceeds to drown. C’mon Kesey. That is an original and unique way of killing off a character, but it is so unique that it seems too bizarre and far-fetched to be true. When I read about this character's death I was disappointed and shocked. How could there be no foreshadowing to my beloved character’s death? It all happened so suddenly, and there wasn’t a clear reason, at the time, as to why the death had to happen. Even worse, there was no closure. There wasn’t a description of this character’s funeral or anyone mourning for him. The deaths in this novel are, for the most part, inconsiderate jabs that Kesey creates to simply move along the plot along. However, where this novel lacks in coherence from the death scenes, it makes up in the smoothness of the dialogue.

The dialogue in this novel isn’t long or drawn out, each action and movement has a purpose and the narration is not forced or boring, but holds a strong character voice that draws empathy from the reader. There has to be some way to establish Chief’s past without clunky dialogue or narration, and that is achieved with the brilliant use of flashbacks. The flashbacks establish why Chief decides to go deaf and mute and how his ill association with the government comes about. In one of the flashbacks, a young Chief is shown standing in front of his house with three government workers plotting to take his native lands. The workers blatantly talk in front of him without regarding him as a person: “I start to tell them he’s not Navaho, but what’s the use if they don’t listen? They don’t care what tribe he is” (214). This builds Chief’s character and explains, without saying it directly, that Chief is mute because no one bothered to listen to him when he was young. He was practically invisible. This makes me commiserate with Chief and understand why and how the “Combine” has ruled his life; Kesey beautifully employs flashbacks and inspires empathy for Chief by outlining the events he went through to shape his adult self.

The kooky characters, ingenious plot devices, and inspiring thematic statements make One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest a truly unique and fascinating novel. The story ties together almost flawlessly, with a “tragic hero” motif and good against evil theme that make it feel so relatable and familiar but are written in a way to make the novel feel one of a kind.

Life is a dream, especially when you’re not free to live it, and this novel has left me to realize that the real world doesn’t always mean taxes and money and marriage. The real world means laughter. Real laughter and happiness and letting go of yourself to find who you truly are. That is what this novel is about: holding onto your laugh to stay sane. But, really, wouldn’t it be fun to be just a little bit cuckoo?